Slow Burn
by eyeslikewildflowers
Summary: Set in-between seasons 3 and 4, Daryl and Carol find themselves able to enjoy a few moments of respite together. Will be multi-chapter with some adult situations later on.
1. Chapter 1

Hey! First off, I am still working on my other fic (Starting Clean), so if you're following that please don't worry, the new chapter should hopefully be up soon. This is the beginning of something I wrote a long time ago and have just gotten around to finally editing. I already have 5800+ more words/three more chapters (with more to come!) for this story that I will be uploading as I edit. This fic is set between seasons 3 and 4 when they are at the prison, but kind of ignores the whole Woodbury thing. I drew a lot of inspiration from 4x01, "30 Days Without an Accident". This fic is really going to be a "slow burn" that focuses a lot on the emotional relationship between Carol/Daryl but I promise it will pay off with some sexytimes after chapter 3. I would really appreciate it if you could take the time to review this if you like it (or if you don't!)

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Daryl sat on the roof of the prison, taking first watch. It was chilly, the days were as hot as ever in Georgia but the nights were beginning to cool off as summer the end of summer drew nearer. The sky was clear and bright, one of the brightest since they'd arrived at the prison all those months ago. Moonlight illuminated the forest surrounding their new home just enough for him to spot new walkers emerging from the trees now and again. Muted noise could be heard from within the prison, the low humming of voices as his group and the new inhabitants Rick kept finding wound down for the day. Daryl had been out on a run all day but had volunteered to take first watch, even skipping dinner. He didn't mind staying up, and he enjoyed the moments of respite and solitude up on the roof. He knew it was dangerous to think that they would ever be truly safe and sink into complacency, and especially dangerous to relax too much while on watch, but he couldn't deny that the atmosphere in the prison had changed significantly since they had first arrived. It had been long enough since their last real walker breach that he almost felt relaxed. Almost like he was just working a normal security guard night job at some boring office building somewhere far away in the past.

His thoughts began to drift back to the days he had spent bumming around aimlessly with Merle before the Turn. No sense of purpose but enough security and apathy to keep following his older brother's wayward lead. Their days were simple - find something to eat, find someone to hustle or something to steal, sell whatever they had stolen, find something to eat again, find something to drink or smoke, then find somewhere to crash. Rinse and repeat. He missed Merle. Didn't matter how shitty he could be, Merle was the only one in the world who really cared about him, that what he always told him at least. Daryl found himself staring unfocused into the trees so he shook his head and sat up straighter. Couldn't afford to be thinking about that shit, not anymore. Besides, at least these days he had a roof over his head and could count on regular meals, which was more security and comfort than Merle had ever been able to provide. And he had people, a kind of mismatched family... Rick, who after a shaky start he knew he could trust with his life. Hershel, a kind of wise uncle who sometimes made him feel like he knew too much about everyone. Carl, who Daryl had been surprised to realize kind of looked up to him. Daryl hadn't ever been looked up to in his whole life, and the kid was starting to grow on him. Sweet Beth, who could usually be found cooing over baby Judith. Then there was Glenn and Maggie, a packaged deal those days, solid and reliable. And Carol. His Carol. The unlikeliest friend he had ever made, really the only good friend he had ever had. He couldn't imagine that there had ever been a time he didn't know her, she always seemed to know what he was thinking without having to say anything and anticipating his actions before he made them. Somehow the meek housewife had tested the boundaries of his emotional walls and had come to know him better than he knew himself. Maybe it was his effort to find Sophia that drew them together, or maybe it was just two damaged people gravitating toward each other. Either way, Carol was different from the rest of them. He thought of her more than he liked to admit even to himself. He found himself daydreaming about her fierce blue eyes, her wild tousled hair, her kind smile at almost all hours of the day. On runs he found himself constantly on the lookout for something small to bring her, some little trinket or paperback or piece of candy brighten her day. Most of the time he felt like a damn fool whenever he found anything and usually left it where he found it, afraid he was acting like a housecat bringing home a hunted mouse. Daryl shook his head and snapped himself back to reality. He leaned his head against the cool concrete wall behind him and fished around in his pocket before pulling out a flimsy cigarette and a barely usable lighter he had found during the run. He felt a slight twinge of guilt knowing he should have pooled the lighter with the rest of their supplies. _Fuck it_ , he thought, _there's only enough fluid left for a couple butts anyway_.

Just as he finished lighting up and took a first puff, he was startled by a sudden metallic clang behind him. He was on his feet and reaching for his crossbow in a split second. Just as he was raising the weapon to his shoulder, he saw the source of the noise. The door to the roof was open, and Carol stood illuminated like an angel in the fluorescent light behind her. Daryl's heart jumped, which quickly convinced himself was from relief that it wasn't an attack.

"Brought you some dinner," Carol said, stepping up onto the roof and closing the door behind her. "You must be starving. Noticed you didn't come down for leftovers after you got back."

Daryl grunted his gratitude and motioned to take the plate from her, noting the care she had taken in piling an extra portion of squirrel meat on the plate and leaving out the dandelion salad she knew he couldn't stand.

"Uh uh," Carol said, eyeing the cigarette dangling from his mouth and refusing to hand him the plate. Daryl narrowed his eyes at her. He knew she hated smoking. Anyone else and he would have told them to fuck off and grabbed the plate anyway, but she had a way of making him acquiesce without much effort at all. Still, he'd been looking forward to that cigarette all day. He locked eyes with her and slowly, exaggeratedly, took the cigarette out of his mouth and flicked it off the roof. She half opened her mouth, probably to reprimand him for not snuffing it first, but he raised his eyebrows as if daring her to pick a fight. She squinted at him and handed him the plate, mouth twitching upward at the corners. Their wordless argument over, he settled back down against the wall to eat.

"What are you doing taking watch? You had a long day and you know it was Maggie's turn tonight" she crossed her arms and looked down at him as if he were a petulant child as he crossed his legs and shoveled squirrel into his mouth with his hands. Carol hadn't bothered to bring him cutlery as she knew he wouldn't use it anyway.

"I know," he said, mouth full. "I offered. Ain't been sleeping much lately anyways."

Carol looked as if she was about to reproach him again, but instead she uncrossed her arms and slunk down the wall to settle beside him. "Me either," she sighed, looking off into the forest, finally allowing herself to relax after an equally long day. Daryl was surprised she hadn't gone back inside where it was warm and he kept noisily chewing as he looked sideways at her. He wasn't going to ask, he knew she'd elaborate if she wanted to. "Almost feels like we're safe," she finally said, echoing his exact thoughts from earlier.

Daryl grunted. "Ain't felt that way since the world went to shit" he said, nodding toward the walkers at the fence.

"Haven't felt that way in a long time," she echoed as if in agreement, but his chest ached at what he knew she really meant. Again, they sat in silence, Daryl's plate clean this time. He expected she would pick it up and take it inside with her but hoped she wouldn't. He didn't mind the company.

"Good run today?" she asked.

Daryl shrugged and replied in his gravelly voice, "Ain't much left out there." It was true, he and Michonne had to venture further and further away each time to find anything worth scavenging. "Got some ammo. Few winter clothes and stuff. No gas though, ain't any gas anywhere, seems like. An' Michonne found some comic books."

Carol laughed. Here, at the end of the world, people could still find escape in comic books. She had seen Carl and Michonne making trades between their comic stashes on the way up to the roof. She had paused and watched them fondly for a moment, before feeling a familiar dull ache twist at her insides. Sophia had loved comic books and left them strewn everywhere, which Carol had forever harped on her to clean up.

"Funny, the things you miss," she said wistfully.

Daryl nodded, though he didn't entirely relate. Besides the whole world going to shit thing, he actually found that he was wanting for less these days than before the Turn. Hunting, tracking, and scavenging was what he had always been used to and good at. Nowadays he was still doing all that but also had a stable home to come back to at the end of the day. That was certainly a novelty.

"Nah, I don't miss much," he said, fumbling with his fingerless gloves. The left one had the beginnings of a tear along one of the seams. Carol reached suddenly for his hand, causing him to flinch away. She paused and he felt the heat rise to his face. Of course she wasn't gonna hurt him, but old habits die hard. At least with Carol, he never felt embarassed long. She didn't look at him like the others did, with pity when he reacted like that, or with fear when he lashed out. Her crystal blue eyes just met his with a look of understanding, a mutual solidarity as she waited for him to relax. She gently took his left hand in hers and slid the glove off, her creamy smooth hand out of place against his rough and calloused one.

"I'll mend this and have it ready for you tomorrow" she said, a statement rather than a question. Daryl knew there was no use arguing with her anyway.

They once again sat in silence as they surveyed the acres around them. Daryl knew he should tell her to go inside, it was late and getting cold, but he couldn't bring himself to. Selfishly, he wanted her to stay, which he rationalized by telling himself that she could make her own decisions. That much had become more and more apparent over their past few months at the prison. Secretly, he was proud of her. She was a model of not only surviving but _thriving_ even after the abuse she had endured. Carol abruptly interrupted his wayward train of thought.

"You know what I miss?" she blurted. "From before?"

"Hmm?" he asked.

Carol leaned her head back against the wall and smiled one of her disarming half smiles as she answered, "Wine."

" _Wine_?" Daryl drawled. He scoffed and shook his head. "Of all the fuckin things, woman."

She kept smiling. "Yeah. here isn't much left that I wouldn't give for a nice bottle of wine."

Daryl just looked at her, brow furrowed quizzically. Carol giggled slightly and he cracked a small smile.

"I used to love wine," she continued. "Usually had a glass or two in the evenings. Used to take my mind off…" she faltered. Daryl nodded. He knew. Just as he had flinched earlier, Carol had exposed a small part of her painful past to him, something she was careful not to do around others but let her guard down around him, and their moment of lightheartedness was gone. Carol drew her knees up to her chest, shivering slightly in the chilly air, and Daryl was suddenly very aware of the couple inches between them that seemed to burn with static. The urge to be near her, to comfort her, was overwhelming and he had to hold himself back from drawing her into his arms. He noticed her shivering and swiftly draped his poncho over her like a blanket without a second thought. She shuffled closer to him until their shoulders were touching and leaned into him slightly, as if to say thank you.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked.

"Nah," he said truthfully. He'd spent enough nights outside that the cold didn't really bother him. That, and he was pretty sure the heat from her shoulder would be enough to keep him warm for the rest of his life. They sat like that for awhile, listening to the cicadas and and distant wails of the walkers at the fence.

"So" he said finally, trying to keep the conversation going in hopes she wouldn't go back inside. "What kinda wine you drink?" Daryl didn't know anything about wine, other than that a bottle and a half was usually enough to knock his mother flat out.

"Hmm," Carol mused, "didn't matter, really. I used to like a mild red but I'd drink anything. Usually just got whatever was cheapest, I never could tell the difference between that and the good stuff anyway."

Daryl nodded.

After a moment she said, "What about you, what stupid things do you miss from before?"

He shrugged, now hyper aware that she had shifted again so they were pressed against each other from shoulder to hip, her legs also angled slightly towards him. His mouth was dry as he tried to ignore the weakness in his limbs that only she could cause in him.

"Nothin'" he said finally.

"Nothing?"

"Nah," he said. "Got everything I need here. Got a roof, a bed-" and whatever he was about to say next he immediately forgot as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Their physical closeness was not something entirely unfamiliar, though it felt different to Daryl that night. It was something more… intimate than the comfortable touches they usually shared. A quick hug here, a reassuring pat there. Daryl vaguely thought that such closeness should scare him, but instead he felt nothing but gratefulness at their easy bond. She let out a small sigh and he leaned his head on hers. It was getting late and she was clearly tired but neither of them were willing to move. Instead, he fell quiet and looked out at the stars, knowing he shouldn't feel so safe and relaxed but was unwilling to tear himself from the moment, from her. He noticed that she must have showered recently, she smelled like soap and sun dried cotton and something unidentifiable and sweet. She smelled like Carol. He sat there with her, breathing in her sweet scent and trying to enjoy the rare moment of stillness, of absolute calm, and marvelling that not only was he sharing it with her, but that she was choosing to share it with him. He had never been comfortable enough to sit in silence like that with anyone, not even Merle.

After a few minutes Daryl felt her shoulder slump and her breathing slow and he knew she had fallen asleep. With his right hand he reached across himself to pull a corner of the poncho up that had fallen down shoulder, slowly so he wouldn't wake her. He gazed up at the stars, trying to gauge how much time he had left on his watch. He guessed he had around an hour before he would be relieved. Daryl glanced down at Carol's sleeping form illuminated by the moon, eyelashes casting soft shadows on her cheeks, before again resting his head lightly on hers. She really was so small and slender against him that he could hardly believe this was the same person who had once been a meek, battered down housewife. The faint lines of her face nearly erased as she relaxed, and he realized that she was never not tensed when she was awake. Her brow was always furrowed, her lips always slightly pursed. How could someone so peaceful and beautiful when sleeping carry so much weight when awake? He felt a tug in his chest, a strong desire to take all the baggage she carried and shoulder it for her. He knew he had his own issues, but he'd take on all of hers in a second if he could, if only it meant she could sleep better at night. He gently turned his face into her hair to breathe her in again and he wondered at how quickly she had fallen asleep. For a second he hoped it had something to do with him, but he quickly convinced himself that she was probably just exhausted. Either way, he would let her sleep until his watch was over.


	2. Chapter 2

This one's a twofer! Lots of angst and a little bit of Daryl in the shower. I have the next chapter pretty much ready to go and should be up shortly. Please take the time to review, I write these fics for myself but I publish them for you guys and your kind words of encouragement honestly make my day. I also appreciate constructive criticism so I can make the next ones better:)

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Daryl and Michonne returned late again a few days later. It was just past sunset when they finally made it back to the prison, Daryl's motorcycle and Michonne's truck loaded down with supplies from a successful run. They had found an almost untouched general store next to a smattering of little country houses tucked far enough into the woods that not many scavengers had found it. Not only that but a line of fresh rabbits was draped across the back of Daryl's motorcycle, having found them caught in one of his traps on the way back. His own pack was heavy with things he had found for himself; tools, new bootlaces, and a couple things for Carol. Hershel opened the gates for them as a small group gathered at the prison's main entrance to help them unload. Daryl scanned the group for Carol, as he always did, and was disappointed that he couldn't find her among the crowd that had gathered. He grabbed his pack and let the others get to work sorting the items. He checked the kitchen and his growling stomach tempted him to stay for some leftover dinner, but he was determined to find Carol first. She wasn't in the store room either. He made his way to cell block C, and his heart skipped when he saw the faint glow of candlelight from behind the sheet she had hung as a makeshift door. Daryl paused, second guessing himself again if what he was about to do was stupid, if he should just forget about it. He steeled himself and pressed on, stopping in front of her door to knock on the cinder block frame.

"Come in?" he heard Carol say, the familiar sound of her voice instantly calming him down. He didn't know why he worked himself up so much. It was just Carol, just his kind, familiar Carol. She'd appreciate anything he brought her. He drew back the sheet and stepped into her cell-turned-bedroom. She was sitting up on her bed facing the door and was pulling a thread and needle through a button on one of his few shirts, a small pile of finished mending on a chair beside her. Her soft features were illuminated by the light from a single candle on the shelf beside her bed. He leaned against the doorframe and his eyes lit on a glass bottle next to her candle, which held a few wilting Cherokee roses. He had picked them for her on a patrol around the prison's perimeter the day after they had sat together on the roof but had chickened out giving them to her directly, feeling like a stupid little boy at the last minute. Instead, he had tossed them on her bed and hoped she would know they were from him. His eyes returned to her and Daryl's chest swelled at how… _domestic_ the scene was. Almost normal. He was painfully aware of how out of place he was, hulking and dirty and taking up too much of her clean and pretty little space.

"I heard you guys arrive but I thought I'd just finish up here before coming to see you," she said sheepishly. "I should probably go help them sort through what you got. Sounded like a good run from all the commotion."

 _Coming to see you._ Did she mean he and Michonne, to greet them after their run just like everyone else? Or did she just mean him?

Daryl cleared his throat and fiddled with the crossbow that was still slung over his shoulder. "Nah, the others got it covered." The last thing he wanted was her running out on him. Carol returned to her mending and looked at him quizzically. He was fidgeting so much that she knew he had something else on his mind.

"Brought'cha somethin'" he said suddenly, reaching into his pack. He stepped forward enough to lightly toss some items onto the bed beside her, but not enough to break the safe barrier of space between them. Carol had asked him long ago to bring her books if he found any, and he didn't know what the fuck she would even want to read but he had grabbed a couple from the nightstand of one of the houses they had combed through that day. She beamed as she picked them up and he couldn't help but breathe a small sigh of relief a little as she marveled at them.

"Thank you," she breathed, looking up at him with crinkled eyes that made his knees go soft. She gently placed them on the shelf next to the Cherokee roses, handling the paperbacks as if they were made of china.

"An' this," he said after hesitating for a moment and tossing a heavier bundle next to her. She picked up the package and unrolled a slinky black satin nightgown. She stiffened and raised her eyebrows. Daryl's face burned and he wanted to sink into the floor when he realized what he'd done.

"No, that… it's not… I just found… didn't look" he mumbled, gesturing to the other item in her hand that the nightgown had been wrapped around to protect. But rather than tossing the nightgown aside, she absent-mindedly hung it on the nail beside her bed where the rest of her few clothes hung as she fixed her attention on the smooth, heavy bottle in her other hand. She cracked a wide smile.

"Wine?" she exclaimed, beaming up at him. "Daryl!"

He shuffled, still mortified.

"Ain't much," he said gruffly, looking at the floor.

"No, it is," she said, abruptly standing and crossing the floor towards him. She broke through the comfortable distance between them without hesitation, and he forgot how to speak as she gave him a quick hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek, his embarrassing mistake apparently forgiven. She stepped back slightly but didn't return to the bed. She raised her eyebrows in the teasing way he was so used to and said, "You're not going to make me drink this alone, are you?"

He furrowed his brow for a second, he had been so anxious to give her the gifts that he hadn't considered what she would actually do with the wine after.

"Dunno, maybe you wanna save it for a special occasion or somethin'," he said finally, trying hard not to fixate on the smooth lines of her collarbone under the straps of her tank top.

"Well," she said, toying with the bottle. "Wine goes bad after you open it. And I shouldn't drink it all by myself, Rick would kill both of us if I ended up trashed."

Daryl fixed his eyes on his boots. He knew it had been a stupid idea, he shouldn't have bothered.

"And anyways," she said, nudging his chin up with a soft touch so he could meet her gaze, "Today _is_ a special occasion." He frowned. Wasn't any occasion that he could think of, though he hadn't been keeping track of the dates.

"An' what's that?" he asked, voice gravelly. Carol gently placed her hand on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths and the faint, fluttery beat of his heart.

"We're still here, aren't we? Another day. That's as good an occasion as any."

The air between them was impossibly thick as Daryl tried to form some kind of response. Carol, with her hand still on his chest, slid her other hand up to his forehead where she brushed back the hair from his eyes.

"Tell you what," she said, gently rubbing at a spot of dirt on his forehead. "You go clean yourself up. I'll meet you at tower three in a little while. We'll have ourselves a picnic."

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Daryl stood motionless in the shower, the frigid water raising goosebumps as it swept over his sun-worn skin. The hot water had been out for a while, but he hadn't noticed. Mostly he was trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened with Carol in her cell. She seemed happy with the things he had brought her, but then he thought of the nightgown and leaned his face into the ice water, punishing himself for it. The stupid fucking nightgown that he had grabbed from the same bedroom where he found the books, thinking of nothing but wrapping the wine bottle with it to keep it safe on his trip back. It had just been lying on a chair in that bedroom and he had snatched it as he left, trying to wrap the bottle and stuff it in his pack before Michonne saw. How could he have been so careless? She was probably creeped out… except, maybe she wasn't? That was the thing that Daryl was most confused about. How had he gone from accidentally gifting her lingerie to getting an invite for a picnic? That she even still wanted to talk to him was a miracle. Why did she even bother with him? He shut his eyes tight against the water, Merle's voice coming back to him.

 _I'm the only one who's ever gonna care about you, baby brother._

Daryl closed his fist and leaned it against the cold tile, willing Merle's taunting to go away.

 _Shit, you ain't got no game at all, Darylina. What is you, a nancy boy or somethin'?_

Daryl winced, remembering the venom behind Merle's words. If Merle was the only one who cared about him, why had he torn him down all the time? Made him feel like he was nothing. Nothing without Merle, anyway.

A faint humming broke his thoughts. He recognized Carol's voice from the hallway, humming a tune that echoed all around him in the shower room. He figured she wouldn't come in, but quickly shut off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist just in case. As he walked barefoot into the cellblock hallway, he caught a glimpse of her as she rounded the corner, arms full of blankets and a bundle that he guessed held the wine and hopefully some food. Heat spread from his core to his fingertips as an image of a wine-drunk Carol crept into his mind. He marched back to his cell a few down from Carol's and pulled on the cleanest clothes he had; his least ripped jeans and a flannel shirt she had washed for him a couple days prior. They smelled alright and he was struck with the unusual desire to do something about his disheveled appearance. He roughly combed his fingers through his damp hair and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up before feeling like a fool and giving up. He knew he needed to relax, this was just Carol and they were just hanging out at the end of a long day like they had a million times before. He slid his grimy work boots on over thick socks and set off for tower three.


	3. Chapter 3

Two chapters in one weekend! The next ones will take a while longer to upload since I actually have to write them, but I already have the next couple plotted out. Let me know what you think!

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Guard tower three was mostly unused by the inhabitants of the prison. Most preferred to take watch from the roof of the building or one of the better maintained towers. The one Daryl approached was mainly used by the kids as a clubhouse, though Glenn and Maggie were also sometimes spotted sneaking away from it in the early hours of the morning. The night air was a lot warmer than it had been when they were on the roof, and Daryl found himself starting to sweat in his flannel, though he wasn't sure whether it was from heat or anticipation. Daryl rounded the last of the spiral stairs to the lookout and paused briefly to steady himself before opening the door. Just as he had been earlier at Carol's cell, he instantly calmed when he saw that she was already there, smiling up at him as she finished setting up. She had spread a couple blankets on the ground and placed the stub of a candle in a jar in the centre, with two plates of leftover cold spaghetti already waiting.

"Nice of you to join," she said, twisting the corkscrew that she had found stashed away in a former guard's desk drawer. Daryl eyed the spaghetti and realized just how hungry he was, he hadn't eaten since before the run that morning. His stomach growled audibly, causing Carol to giggle and him to crack a smile, which took away the last of his nerves. He flopped down across from her and took a plate of spaghetti into his lap.

"Hey," she scolded just as he was reaching for the spaghetti with his hands. He paused and she handed him a fork and a knife. "Let's pretend to be civilized for once, alright?"

Daryl snorted as he took the cutlery, but he did sheepishly slow down. He did want to enjoy their little picnic, and he appreciated the effort she had put into it, from the blankets and food to the flickering candle stub. He ate in silence for a moment while she worked the corkscrew. "Almost forgot how to use one of these things," she muttered. The cork came free with a satisfying pop and the candlelight illuminated her smile, though it quickly fell.

"Dammit. Forgot to bring cups," she said in dismay.

"S'alright," Daryl said, nodding to the bottle. "We can share."

Carol's features softened, then she took a triumphant swig straight from the bottle. She closed her eyes and held the liquid in her mouth for a moment before swallowing and letting out a sigh.

"Jesus. Thank you, Daryl," she breathed as she passed the bottle to him. He chuckled as he took a sip, the bitter liquid burning his throat. He had never liked wine much but would play along for her.

"What's so funny?" she asked, noticing his smirk.

"Jus' reminds me of bein', like, thirteen, ya know?" he said, shrugging as he passed the bottle back to her. Carol cocked her head. She didn't know.

"Like when you folks would go out and you and your buddies would get into the liquor cabinet and drink a bottle of somethin'? That's like this," he said.

"Guess we grew up kinda differently," Carol said, smiling faintly as she twirled spaghetti around her fork.

Daryl stared at the candle. He knew he had a fucked up childhood but had never really considered just how different theirs must have been. They likely never would have even crossed paths if the Turn hadn't happened. His stomach twisted, the thought of never knowing her putting a dent in his appetite.

"First time I ever drank I was in high school, junior year," she said, taking another sip. "Me and my friend Lisa got invited to a party at one of the popular guy's houses, which I think was an accident, but we went anyway. We told our parents we were staying at the other one's house. Long story short, we drank too many wine coolers and ended up falling into the pool with our clothes on. The hangover was hard to explain away to my parents as food poisoning."

Daryl's face coloured as the image of Carol emerging from a pool with just a t-shirt on invaded his mind. He cleared his throat.

"First time I got drunk, Merle stole our dad's six pack an' we went out into the woods. Climbed a tree. Ended up falling. Broke my wrist." Daryl said, absently rubbing at his left wrist. "Caught hell for it later."

"How old were you?"

Daryl shrugged. "'Bout twelve, maybe?"

Carol leaned against the railing behind her, drinking deeply from the wine bottle again before passing it to him. She closed her eyes and he took the opportunity to look her over, from her cotton pajama pants to the oversized army jacket she wore over her tight-fitting tank top. She was easily the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Daryl's eyes fixated on her fingers just visible under the army jacket's sleeve and he indulgently wondered what it would be like to lace their fingers together as he sipped the wine. He jumped a little as she opened her eyes, afraid he had been thinking aloud.

"Let's play a game," she said, gathering their plates and setting them aside.

Great, he thought. Was she drunk already? He noticed her cheeks were already flushed.

"What kinda game?" he asked suspiciously.

"Truth or dare?" she said, that familiar teasing twinkle in her eye.

Daryl shrugged noncommittally. She could probably convince him to run straight into a herd of walkers if she asked nicely.

"I'll start," she said, leaning forward and passing him the bottle. "Truth or dare?"

"C'mon now, how old are we?" he said in weak protest, strangely apprehensive about what she would make him say or do. When she ignored the question and kept staring at him, he relented. "Alright then, woman. Dare."

Carol cocked her head and purses her lips.

"How about… sing me a song?" she said, testing the waters.

Daryl squinted his eyes at her. "What kinda dare is that?" he scoffed.

"Gotta start out easy," Carol replied. She shrugged took her jacket off, the wine apparently warming her as much as it was him, and his lips parted at the sight of her creamy shoulders exposed in the moonlight. Daryl stared at her for a moment then brought himself back to the game. He rolled his eyes, hoping to disguise his momentary distraction as consideration of her dare.

"Twinkle-twinkle-little-star-how-I-wonder-what-you-are" he recited monotonously. Carol chuckled and took the bottle back.

"See?" she teased. "Wasn't so hard. Your turn."

"Alright then. Take your pick," he said, fiddling with the blanket under his boots as he tried to avoid looking directly at her, suddenly shy of seeing her soft curves hidden by nothing but the thin material of her threadbare tank top.

"Truth."

Daryl had no idea what to ask.

"Tell me somethin'," he said after a moment, and he couldn't help but look up at her when she hesitated to reply.

Carol met his gaze with, "What kind of something?"

"I dunno," Daryl shrugged. "Anythin'. Somethin' you don't tell most people."

Carol hesitated and a funny look came over her face. She took a deep drink of wine before saying, "Well… my hair used to be a lot longer. And really curly. Cut it right before the Turn, actually."

Daryl raised his eyebrows. That was definitely something he hadn't known about her. He had never given much thought to her hair before, though he supposed it was unusually short.

"Why's that?" he asked.

Carol leaned against the wall again.

"I was gonna leave Ed, you know. Me and Sophia. I had a whole plan to run away to my sister's for good."

Daryl stared at her, motionless. As much as he hated thinking about her old life with Ed, he had the sense that this really wasn't something she'd told anyone else in the group about and he hoped she would continue.

"He caught me talking to my sister on the phone about it. Grabbed me by my hair and…" she trailed off. Daryl nodded almost imperceptibly. Knowing what that bastard must have done to her made white hot anger course through his veins. She continued before he could react. "That was my breaking point. I didn't care what he did to me anymore. I figured I could lie low for a few weeks after that, make him think things were alright. But I decided he was never gonna throw my around by my hair again. Lost his damn mind when I came home like this," she said, running a hand through her slightly grown out curls. "It was worth it, though."

Daryl's stomach twisted as he recalled the fading yellow bruises that dotted her shoulders and collarbone when he first met her at their original camp.

"Anyway," she said nonchalantly, turning her attention back to him. "That's enough of that. Your turn."

"Truth," Daryl said quickly, still processing what she has said but hoping to avoid more singing or dancing.

Carol half-grinned like she had the question ready.

"Did you leave me those flowers the other day?"

Daryl's breath caught in his throat. Why did she have to bring that up?

"Mmhm," he mumbled, avoiding her eyes and taking another drink.

Carol's half-grin turned into a small smile. "I thought so. Never got the chance to thank you."

Daryl shrugged. "Was nothin'."

"You're always saying that," Carol said. "But it was. It is. It's nice to know that someone else… someone else thinks of her."

Daryl stared into the dying candle flame.

"Course I do," he said gruffly, guilt creeping into his chest as it always did when Sophia came to mind.

"You have to know there wasn't anything more you could have done," Carol said firmly, as if she had heard his thoughts.

Daryl shrugged, fiddling with his shoelace. There was always more he could have done. Carol leaned forward from her sitting position and scooted till her knees were touching his crossed legs. She lifted his chin like she had earlier in her cell and silently coaxed him to look at her.

"I'm jus' sorry is all," he said weaker than he intended.

Carol's hard expression softened and she brought his forehead down and pressed it against her shoulder, hands lightly grazing the back of his neck. Daryl inhaled her sweet scent deeply, feeling like a wounded animal.

"There's not a second that goes by that I don't miss her," she said, causing Daryl's heart to disintegrate. "But you know what?" She broke their touch and sat back on her heels. She looked sideways at the prison and he studied her face. "Sometimes... I think that this isn't any way for a kid to grow up. Who knows Carl and Judith are going to end up after it's all over? Maybe it is better this way."

Daryl was surprised to hear her say that. Maybe the wine was clouding her thoughts. But she was right, in a way. Their new world was not kind to anyone, especially not children. He knew she had already granted him whatever forgiveness he needed for failing to find Sophia, but that wouldn't mean anything until he could forgive himself. Daryl twisted around and leaned back until he was laying flat on the ground next to her with his hands behind his head like a pillow. They shared a minute of quiet, both processing her admission. She looked down at him and nudged his elbow.

"My turn. I'll pick dare."

Daryl glanced around. He was surprised that she wanted to continue the game, and desperately wanted to follow her lead and lighten the mood. His eyes lit upon the nearly empty bottle next to them and he nodded toward it. "Finish that off?"

Carol smirked slightly but didn't hesitate as she downed the rest of the liquid in one gulp. A crimson drop escaped her lips. Daryl saw it snake down her jaw in the faint candlelight and before he knew what he was doing he had sat up and stopped it's path down her neck with his lips. Carol inhaled sharply but didn't shy away. Emboldened by his buzz, he traced the droplet's path the rest of the way up her neck, and as he moved over her jaw with gentle suction and small kisses she brought her nearest hand up to grasp the back of his head. He hesitated when he reached the corner of her mouth, knowing he had heavily toed the line but hadn't yet fully crossed it. If either of them were to make that move, there would be no going back. He pulled away a few inches, mildly horrified at what he had just done.

Daryl was so preoccupied with avoiding her eyes and figuring out how he was going to excuse his behaviour that he hardly noticed her hand, still on the back of his head, guiding him closer again. Against his better judgment he looked up at her face and saw her eyes flicker from his lips to his eyes and back again. Suddenly she was too close and all he could smell was her Carol scent and he could feel her breath on his face and then the world stopped as she pressed her lips firmly to his. They stayed like that for a moment, tight-lipped and innocent, until breaking apart to catch their breath. Carol was looking at Daryl with a fire in her eyes he had never seen before and he moved this time, meeting her lips with determination.

Kissing her was not at all like he had imagined it would be on the rare occasions when he'd allowed himself to indulge in fantasy. He had thought it would be hesitant or even awkward at first. He hadn't anticipated that they would move so purposefully together, rhythms so in fluid and in sync. Kissing her was unlike anything he had ever felt, her soft skin and delicate breaths setting every nerve ending in his body ablaze and he grasped her shoulders, urging her closer. He moaned slightly as he felt her tongue run across his lips. He let her in and she melted into his arms, hands tangling in his hair as he grasped her hips. He shifted his weight and moved to lean over her with his right hand bracing her lower back as their pace quickened and they sank onto the blankets.

"Shit," he muttered as his left hand accidentally nudged the candle jar over.

They broke away from each other as he snuffed out the smoldering blanket. Carol rested on her elbows and started giggling, a sound Daryl had rarely heard before but that always sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. Blanket crisis averted, whatever tension he still held in his body over the shock of what they were doing melted from him as he gave way to soft laughter too. He snaked his left hand around the back of her neck and they settled down against the blankets together; Carol on her back with her head resting on his arm and Daryl curled protectively around her. She brought her hand up to touch his face and he nuzzled into her temple.

"Guess I'm not used to that wine," she said, stroking lightly down his neck.

Daryl stiffened, his heart beginning to sink. Did she really blame the moment they had just shared on too much alcohol? His old insecurities started to creep up his throat and he began frantically planning how he was going to make a quick exit.

"Daryl," she said, turning into him so her cheek rested on his arm, "That was a joke."

She lightly kissed him and he cracked a smile of relief beneath her lips. No, Carol might be tipsy, but she could still handle herself. Still, Daryl was somewhat glad that they hadn't yet hadn't gone further. If they were ever going to, he wanted it to be slow and deliberate, not a quick tryst in the heat of the moment. She snuggled into his chest and breathed deeply as Daryl gripped her tight, finding words to be unnecessary. He traced her shoulder with the arm that was wrapped under her and he could feel goosebumps where the night air met her bare skin. He rolled over her briefly and fumbled for the extra blanket she had brought that was folded neatly by the door.

One of the top buttons of his flannel shirt was undone and exposed part of his upper chest to her as he spread the blanket over them. Carol caught a glimpse of an angry white scar and she cautiously moved her hand beneath his shirt as they settled back down. He felt the direction she was taking and knew she was going for one of his particularly nasty scars, but made no move to stop her. She delicately traced its outline as if he would shatter if she pressed too hard. Slowly, she took her other hand and cautiously undid two more buttons. She propped herself up on her elbow and moved the shirt down from his shoulder to expose the entirety scar. The tissue was thick and raised above the skin, indicating a deep wound. To his light surprise, Daryl didn't feel exposed or uncomfortable at all. Just like she had on the roof, she didn't look at him with pity or sadness, nothing but acceptance and understanding in her eyes. She sucked in a soft breath when she saw just how far it extended, wrapping around his rib cage and down onto his back.

She broke her sight from his scar and met his eyes, starts reflecting in her wide eyes.

"Truth or dare?" she asked faintly.

Daryl hesitated. As comfortable as he was with her seeing his scar, he didn't much feel like going into detail about it. He covered her hand with his and pressed it into his chest.

"Dare."

Carol returned her gaze to his chest where their hands met. "Show me?" she whispered.

Daryl paused a moment longer, then eased his arm out from under her and sat up, slowly unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. She grasped the shoulders of his flannel and slid them down, drinking in the sight of the firm planes and valleys of his body. He raised his arm slightly and twisted, exposing his back to her, scars crisscrossing it like a checkerboard. She lowered her mouth to where the angry white scar began on his chest and gently kissed it around his ribcage and down his back all the way to where it ended near his hip. She shuffled until she was kneeling behind him and peppered the rest of the scars on his back with tiny kisses. Daryl closed his eyes and leaned back into her slightly, each touch of her lips sending a firebolt through to his core. Carol worked her way back to his shoulders and neck and circled her arms around his waist as she leaned into him.

His breath slowed as she rested the side of her head against the nape of his neck and they sat in silence, mutual understanding passing wordlessly between them. She brought one of her hands back up to trace the scar on his front and whispered, "Belt?"

He closed his eyes, hating that she even possessed the ability recognize the weapon his father had used.

"Yeah," he replied in a gravelly voice, then the words began to tumble out of him. "Was after my mom went. House fire when she passed out with a cigarette in her mouth. I was out playin' and didn't come home till I saw the smoke." Carol tightened her grip, feeling his heart rate increase as he recalled the painful memory.

"Old man blamed me, said I should have been home," he mumbled.

"Daryl-" she said quickly.

"I know," he said, cutting her off. "My mom had been digging her own grave way before that. Of all the shit I've done, I know that time it wasn't my fault," he finished bitterly. Carol's fingers found his hands and they laced together, entwined in his lap.

"I'm sorry," was all she could say.

"Ended up with thirty-seven stitches. Told the hospital I crashed my bike again."

Carol pressed her lips to the nape of his neck and he closed his eyes, feeling her need to absorb his old pain and allowing her to cradle him. He reached for his discarded shirt, bundled it up, and leaned sideways onto the ground. Carol curled around him from behind and he momentarily closed his eyes, feeling safer and warmer than he could ever remember feeling in his whole miserable life.

* * *

When Daryl opened his eyes what seemed like a moment later, the early morning sunlight was warming his face. He and Carol had shifted in the night so that he was flat on his back and she was snuggled into the crook of his arm with her head resting on his chest. She had bunched the blanket up around her neck and he melted at how comfortable and peaceful she looked, just like she had before on the roof. Her breath rose deeply and evenly, and her hand that was resting on his lower stomach tickled him with an occasional twitch. He frowned as he tried to remember if the events of the previous night had really happened or if he had dreamed them. Carol stirred, squirming closer to him and sighing contentedly and he knew it hadn't been a dream. He sighed, half-heartedly thinking that they should get back to the prison before anyone noticed they were gone. Everyone else would be rising soon if they hadn't already but he couldn't bring himself to tear her from her peaceful sleep. Instead, he adjusted the blanket more comfortably over her and lightly dragged his fingers over the curve of her ear, the hollow of her neck, and traced little circles over her shoulder. His eyes drooped once more and he allowed himself to sink back into the hazy space between sleeping and waking.

Daryl fully woke again a little while later when Carol's hand contracted on his lower stomach, raking her nails across his exposed skin. She balled her hands into fists and he felt her back arch slightly and her whole body shudder as she stretched. She looked up at him with bleary eyes and his mouth curved into a half-smile.

"Mornin'," he said, brushing his lips over her forehead.

"Morning," she echoed sleepily, melting back into his chest. She then bolted upright.

"Morning?" she exclaimed. "Shit, we fell asleep!"

Daryl grunted, miffed at the cool breeze that hit him where her warm body had just been. "Relax," he said as he tried to coax her back down. "Ain't no hurry."

She shook her head and leaped to her feet. "Maggie's gonna kill me if I'm late to help with breakfast again." She pulled on her boots and jacket and gathered their dishes. She gently nudged him with her foot.

"Up. I need that blanket."

Daryl sighed and rolled off. He stood up and lazily pulled his flannel back over his shoulders. Carol caught sight of his scar again and paused to set her armful of blankets and dishes down, moving close enough to him that their chests were almost touching. She finished fastening his buttons for him and looked up at him with her hands still on his shirt. Daryl didn't know if he should say something about the night before. He wondered if he should tell her that he didn't expect anything more to happen, that it didn't have to change anything, or, absurdly, if he should thank her. She answered his silent question by standing up on her tiptoes and planting a kiss on his mouth.

"I'll see you later?" she asked apprehensively as if she had been wondering the same thing.

Daryl briefly pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "'Course."

She smiled at him and set off down the tower stairs with her items in tow.

Daryl watched her go for a moment before stretching his arms and letting out a satisfied yawn. He hadn't fathomed the previous morning before his run that he would be waking up the next day beside Carol, the nature of their relationship permanently altered. He half-expected Merle's voice to invade his mind but found that his tauntings were unusually absent. He put his hands on his hips and looked out at the prison, incredulous at how, in the midst of such an apocalyptic event, he had found such a sense of genuine happiness among these mismatched people.

As he rounded the final stairs down from the tower, he noticed Glenn and Carl bringing food down for the pigs. Daryl rolled his eyes and braced himself.

"What's up, Daryl? You like camping or something?" Carl taunted as they got closer.

"What?" Daryl countered lamely, unable to come up with a better response.

"Oh, well," Glenn said with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. "We saw Carol come in too just now with a bunch of blankets. Thought you might have pitched a tent up there or something." Carl sniggered and Daryl's face flushed.

"Shut up," Daryl muttered, scoffing as he purposefully shouldered past Glenn. Try as he might though, he couldn't quite cover up a grin. "Ain't like that."


	4. Chapter 4

OKAY. I know I promised that things would heat up after chapter three. BUT. Please bear with me. This chapter is pretty much just a floofy filler, but I promise it sets up future things. I have another chapter almost completed that I'll probably have up later today or tomorrow to make up for this one. Also, this is my first attempt at writing from Carol's perspective and I'm curious to hear what you guys think of it. Reviews are life and I love all of you who follow/favourited this. Thanks for sticking with me so far!

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The rest of the day was a blur for Carol. She completed her tasks in her usual fashion, but her mind was constantly returning to the previous evening spent with Daryl in the guard tower. The way his lips and hands and body had responded so gently to hers, the way he had allowed her to take such a large chunk out of the walls he surrounded himself with, the tenderness of his touch running smoothly over her shoulder when he thought she had still been asleep in the morning filled her senses. She had gathered the children for their daily lessons, which she usually loved, but that day she was distracted and unfocused. She tried to shake herself out of her funk many times, feeling like a stupid schoolgirl, but she couldn't erase his musky scent from her memory, the sound of his beating heart as he slept reverberating through her mind all day. He and Rick had gone to investigate a small camp of people nearby, and she found herself missing him so badly she was embarrassed by it.

When she had asked him earlier if she would see him later that night, she had tried to hide her apprehension. Carol was afraid he would push her away, second guess himself, and close her off like he usually did when things got too personal. Frankly, she was surprised by his positive reaction and allowed herself to feel hopeful for the first time in as long as she could remember.

"Carol?"

Carol's drifted her eyes closed as she recalled the brutal scars that spanned his back, hoping that one day he would let her in enough tell her the story of each and every one.

"Carol! What are you doing?"

Carol's eyes flew open and she was facing a red-faced Maggie, who had gripped her hands in the sink. Carol looked down and realized she had just peeled a potato almost entirely away.

"What the hell is up with you today?" Maggie asked, equal parts concerned and annoyed.

Carol looked incredulously at the mess of potato peelings in the sink. "Sorry. I don't know," she said, but Maggie just eyed her suspiciously, and Carol had the uncomfortable notion that Maggie knew more than she was letting on.

"Uh huh," Maggie said. "Maybe you need to get more sleep," and the knowing tone in her voice turned Carol's cheeks pink. She ignored the implication and reached to tossed the sad potato shavings in a slop bucket.

"I'll clean this up and start getting the dishes ready," Carol said, moving swiftly away to finish setting up for dinner, wishing to be alone with her thoughts. After a few minutes of readying the cafeteria area, she heard the distinct low hum of Daryl's motorcycle, and she breathed out a sigh of relief she hadn't realized she had been holding all day. She heard a faint commotion from outside and figured they must have brought some new people to the prison.

When people started to trickle in for dinner as they always did like clockwork, Carol's head flew up each time the door opened. To her disappointment, she didn't see Daryl come through the door at all and finally resigned herself to eating a quick meal on the counter before setting to work cleaning up. She hadn't seen Rick either and guessed they were talking with the new arrivals. Having Daryl back at the prison caused a strange bubble of nervousness to rise within her, and she didn't know how to handle it. What if he had also been thinking of the previous night, and decided that it was all a mistake? What if he was purposefully avoiding her? Carol still didn't know what she wanted or expected out of what had happened the night before, but she just wanted to see him that evening even if all they did was sit in silence. Her heart began to sink as the idea that she was never going to be good enough for anyone, ingrained into her by Ed, plucked at the corners of her mind. Carol was getting better at shutting the memory of Ed out, though the wounds ran too deep to fully escape. Dejectedly, Carol said goodnight to Maggie and decided to go to bed early. If Daryl wanted to see her, he would come to her.

Carol took a quick shower and returned to her room, pulling on a light pair of pajama pants and her usual tank top. She heard low voices coming from beyond the cell block but did not feel like joining the others. Still, her mind was racing too much to relax enough to sleep. She lit the candle by her bed and pulled one of the paperbacks Daryl had brought her from the shelf, choosing _The Great Gatsby_ over the other fluffy romance novel. She was incredulous that she had allowed herself to become so despondent over one single night and wanted desperately to lose herself in a story instead.

She had just cracked the spine of the book when a heavy knock at her doorframe caused her to jump.

"Come in," she called out, heart jumping as she recognized Daryl's silhouette outlined on the sheet that hung over her door.

He pulled the sheet back but didn't step in, looking as apprehensive as she felt. He said nothing, just stared at the ground by her bed.

"Hey," he said finally.

"Hey," she said, cracking a smile. As nervous as she was to address the previous night, she couldn't hide that she was happy to see him. "You can come in, if you want."

Daryl chewed the rough skin around his thumbnail as he stepped into her room. He was nervous. He wasn't angry, he wasn't annoyed, he didn't look like he was about to tell her that it had all meant nothing, which afforded her a little relief. Carol scooted her knees up on the bed and patted the mattress beside her, which he flopped onto. They had sat like that countless times before, unwinding in each other's company after a hard day, but this was different. Carol tentatively nudged him.

"How are the new people?"

Daryl shrugged. "Fuckin' useless, if ya ask me," he said. "Dunno why Rick keeps bringing people in who can't do shit. More mouths to feed." He looked up at her and returned her nudge. "How're you?"

Carol steadied herself. She had to address the elephant in the room. "Sore," she admitted, toying with her neck. "That tower deck wasn't the most comfortable thing to sleep on."

Rather than stiffen, shut down, or leave as she feared he would, Daryl sat up straighter and gently pushed on her shoulder, turning her so her back was towards him. She shuddered at his touch, her anticipation all day hadn't measured to how good it felt to really have him there next to her, filling her room with his scent and the quiet sound of his breathing as he ran his fingers over the nape of her neck. She held her breath as he began to deftly work the knots around her neck and shoulders, exhaling audibly every now and then when he moved his thumbs to a different spot. Her mind flickered to when he had last rubbed her shoulders when they had first arrived, and she had only half-jokingly propositioned him. She smiled slightly as his hands worked lower, releasing knot after knot of pent up tension. When he had finished all the way down her back he moved his hands back up to trace her neck and shoulders, before finally resting his hands on the sides of her arms. She leaned back as he leaned in and placed his chin on her shoulder.

"Missed you today," he murmured beside her ear, and Carol was only vaguely embarrassed by the goosebumps the sound of his voice caused on her exposed skin. She twisted around to face him and toyed with the hair that was beginning to grow past his ears.

"I think Maggie knows something. She was acting strange around me," Carol said, omitting that she had also been acting odd all day.

"Pfft," Daryl snorted. "Yeah, Glenn saw me come in right after you. Was bein' a smart ass about it too."

Carol sighed and smiled. "I mean, it's not like we…" she began, but trailed off.

Daryl's face reddened slightly and he broke her gaze. "Yeah," he said awkwardly.

Carol leaned back against the wall and tried to think of some way to change the subject. They had acknowledged it, it was out in the open, and they seemed to be okay, but she didn't want to dwell on it too much in case his mind changed.

Daryl beat her to it. He nodded toward the book she had still in her lap and said, "Didn't mean t' interrupt your reading."

"Oh," she said, toying with the book. "You weren't."

"Any good?" he asked indicating toward it.

Carol flipped through the pages absently as she replied, "I hadn't started reading it yet. But I've read it before, and yeah, I think it's pretty good." She saw the corners of his mouth twitch and knew he was proud of bringing her something she liked.

"Will ya read t' me?" he asked suddenly.

Carol frowned for a moment, unsure if she had heard him correctly. The dirty, rugged, weather-worn hunter in front of her wanted to be read to?

"Really?" she asked, more condescendingly than she'd intended.

Daryl's eyes narrowed. "I like stories, alright? Sue me."

Carol was instantly ashamed of her quick judgment. "Sorry," she said quietly, drawing him close to press a quick kiss to his cheek, the first they had shared since that morning. "Of course I'll read to you."

Daryl looked like he was still on edge, but then the fight went out of him and he leaned into her until his head was resting in her lap. Carol pulled her quilt up over him and her heart melted at how adorable he looked, almost like a little boy about to be tucked into bed and read a bedtime story. However, the memory of him running his lips along her jaw that burst into her mind reminded her that he was anything but. She opened the book and exaggeratedly cleared her throat, which earned her a smile.

 _"In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since."_ she began, noticing his eyes fluttering closed as she settled her free hand in his hair. _"'Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,' he told me, 'just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.'"_ Carol absently stroked through his hair as she continued, gently grasping and releasing in time with the dialogue. After a while, she thought he had fallen asleep and paused.

"Keep goin'," Daryl murmured, turning his head into her stomach. Carol moved her hand to trace over his ear and neck as she finished the page she was on.

 _"When I looked more for Gatsby he had vanished, and I was alone again in the unquiet darkness,"_ she said and closed the book.

"I ain't asleep, woman," Daryl said, mild irritation in his voice.

"That's the end of the first chapter," Carol responded, still tracing over his goosebumped skin.

"So?" he muttered, squinting up at her, "There's a chapter two, ain't there?"

One corner of Carol's mouth turned up slightly, an idea coming to her mind.

"Chapter two is for tomorrow," she said slyly. "One chapter a day. That way, when you're outside the walls you'll know you have to make it back safe so you can find out what happens next."

* * *

 _You'll know you have to make it back safe so you can find out what happens next._ Carol's words echoed pleasantly through Daryl's mind, warming him just as much as the heat from her lap. He had been nervous to return to the prison that night and face her, afraid that she might have regrets about the night before. She had said she wanted to see him earlier in the morning, but there had been enough hours in-between that she could easily have changed her mind. Instead, however, he was relieved to find that she seemed just as glad to see him as he was to see her and that she apparently wanted to keep seeing him. He buried his face into her stomach as she kept reassuringly stroking his hair, grateful that the night on the guard tower hadn't negatively affected them. Her hands found his collar and he shivered as she traced the bare skin just below the nape of his neck. She ran her hands over the light scard there, but she seemed distracted. Daryl glanced up and noticed that her brow was slightly furrowed.

"What is it?" he asked.

Carol hesitated for a moment before responding carefully, "I want to show you something."

Daryl sat up slightly, leaning on his elbows as he considered her curiously. She seemed apprehensive, and he met her burning eyes with an encouraging nod. Carol sat up straight and Daryl's breath hitched as she grasped the hem of her tank top and pulled it off in one fluid motion. Daryl's mind raced, unsure of what she was doing before he registered the little marks that dotted her torso and wrapped around her sides, otherwise invisible when covered with a shirt. His throat swelled and he found himself unable to speak as he took in the awful evidence of Ed's abuse, so disturbed by the marks he left that he hardly noticed that she was wearing nothing but a thin bra and pajama pants. She had no scars that matched the ferocity of his, but hers were so numerous and deliberate that his hands shook as he lightly brushed them with his fingertips. They looked to be mostly cigarette burns, though the occasional unidentifiable slash or dent was interspersed throughout.

Carol closed her eyes at his touch, and with a low voice, she said, "I just… I wanted you to know that you're not alone."

"Carol…" he breathed, bringing his head down to brush his lips over the entirety of her stomach, as she had with him the night before. "If that sonofabitch wasn't already dead I'd kill him myself," he growled into her soft flesh.

Carol guided his head up to level with hers and she said, "He's gone. Dead. I'm not going to let him hurt me anymore. These marks remind me where I came from, and that I can't ever go back to being that person. I've made peace, and I want you to know that you can too."

Daryl chewed his lip and swept his eyes over her determined face. Carol was the strongest woman he had ever known, bar none, and her unbelievable resilience surprised him on an almost daily basis. She remained motionless, looking at him with her clear blue eyes that always seemed to bore directly into his soul. He shifted around and lightly guided her down to the bed until he was wrapped protectively around her on his side and she was curled into a ball facing him. He felt heat rush to his midsection as he finally allowed himself to take the sight of her exposed torso in, though he silently willed it to go away so as to not betray his desire.

"Carol…" he began again in a low, serious tone, this time drawing her closer. "You… you know I would never hurt ya, right?"

Carol nodded silently against his chest, which emboldened Daryl to finish what was on his mind.

"'Cause I… I like what happened… before. Yesterday," he took a deep breath and continued, "And I'd like if it happened again. But I ain't never, _never_ gonna make you do somethin' ya don't wanna do, okay? I know I ain't good with feelin's n' stuff, but I ain't _ever_ gonna be like that. I only wanna go as fast as you do."

Carol lifted her head to meet his eyes and he saw anxiety melt from her face as she broke into a genuine smile. She nestled back into the crook of his neck and pressed her soft lips to his skin before saying quietly, "I know. You're a good man, Daryl Dixon."

Daryl's chest swelled emotion that he couldn't put into words and he firmly kissed her crown, hoping to convey just how much he meant what he said. The way that his group, especially her, genuinely trusted and valued him was something he wasn't at all used to but found that he liked. Here, with Carol snuggled into his chest, this was his home.

They lay there in simple quiet for what seemed like minutes, thought it could have been hours, just breathing each other in. They had never had to say much, always possessing the uncanny ability to communicate their wants, needs, and fears to each other in comfortable silence.

"DARYL!" Rick's voice came suddenly thundering through the cell block, apparently not concerned if he awoke anyone who might have turned in early. "Need you here!"

Daryl muttered a string of expletives as Carol sighed and burrowed closer momentarily before allowing him to sit up. "Fuckin' pigs probably got loose again or some stupid bullshit," he growled, pulling his boots on angrily.

He rose from the bed and grabbed his crossbow, but before he could turn to leave she reached out to grip his hand. He turned and his chest twisted with emotion at how peaceful and inviting she looked on the bed, thinking that if Rick had pulled him away for some trivial thing that could have waited he would run him down with his motorcycle. Carol pulled gently on his arm until he was leaned over her on the bed, and she strained her neck up to give him a light kiss. Daryl temporarily forgot his annoyance with Rick as she smiled slightly into his mouth, before leaning back again.

"Night," she hummed softly. "Chapter two tomorrow."

"Night," he returned, giving her cheek a light touch before blowing out her candle and making his reluctant exit.


	5. Chapter 5

**FASTEN YOUR SEATBELTS LADIES AND GENTLEMAN BECAUSE THIS IS GONNA BE A WILD RIDE. This is by far the longest, and, imo, th** **e best chapter so far and I couldn't have done it without you guys encouraging me! Thank you for all the niceness I have received thus far, reviews are love reviews are life and your kind words truly inspire me to keep writing. Fear not, I already have ideas for at least a couple more chapters. Hope this has been worth the wait. Turn your screens away from your parents/friends/roommates/bosses and please don't forget to let me know what you think!**

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 _God fucking dammit_ , Daryl thought as he angrily stomped back to the cell block. Rick had wrenched him away from Carol to investigate what turned out to be a dead battery in a truck, which absolutely could have waited until the morning. Daryl huffed as he neared Carol's cell and he wished he could have fallen asleep with her instead of having to teach a grown ass man how to jump a vehicle. He half-hoped she would still be awake, though he knew it was unlikely. He peered around the sheet that covered her door, and all the irritation in him momentarily vanished as he gazed upon her chest rising and falling evenly in the cool night air. She was spread on her back with her quilt gathered at her waist, and he noticed with a flush that she was still without her tank top. The thin material of her bra stretched over her chest and his blood rushed southward when his eyes lit upon the hardened bumps protruding from the centre of her breasts. Daryl heard a small commotion behind him as Glenn and Maggie entered the cell block, and he hurriedly made his way into his own cell before they caught him staring at Carol like some kind of creep.

Daryl clambered onto his bed and fixed his eyes on the bottom of the bunk above him. Carol invaded his mind as she usually did when he was alone with his thoughts at the end of the day.

 _Ain't nobody ever gonna care about you like old Merle do, baby brother._

Daryl pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and screwed up his face. That wasn't true. It couldn't be, not after the way Carol had looked at him when he had given her the wine. Or the way she had initiated their first kiss Or the way she had trusted him enough to exposed her own demons. Definitely not after the way she had offered to read to him each night with such hopefulness in her voice. Daryl found it easier to push Merle out when he brought his own hand up to trace over his mouth, imagining that his rough fingers were her soft, sweet lips.

 _I've made peace, and I want you to know that you can too._

Daryl let his hand fall to his chest and he breathed in deeply. He didn't know what was going to happen with him and Carol; and doubted she did either, but he knew that there was at least _something_ there. Something that they didn't have to talk about, that they could let unfold organically. Carol's voice drowned out Merle in his head and he drifted off to sleep, dreaming peacefully of erasing every last mark on her body with his lips.

* * *

The following days passed much the same as they always did. The prison inhabitants tended to the pigs and the gardens, did laundry, and scavenged the surrounding areas as usual, hardly anyone noticing the change in Daryl and Carol's routine. They were often absent from night time gatherings, which largely went unnoticed except for a few side-eyes the next morning, but which Daryl and Carol had grown accustomed to ignoring. Their quiet evenings together were quickly becoming both of their favourite parts of the day, Daryl sneaking into her cell after a quick scrubbing-down and settling into her lap while she read him a chapter at a time and tangled her hands in his hair. Their physical relationship had not progressed beyond tender touches and lingering kisses, though neither pushed for it. Carol appreciated how restrained Daryl was, as she knew she needed it to move slowly. Ed had never been gentle with her, and as much as she wanted Daryl she also needed to move at her own pace. She trusted him with her life and although she was starting to feel ready to take another step forward, she knew he wouldn't initiate and she always ended up shying away at the last minute. Building a relationship, if she dared to call it that, on more than just physical need was something completely foreign to her, but that she found to be paradoxically more intimate that being thrown up against a tree and ravaged in the moonlight. For the time being, Carol was content with what they had.

After a week or so of their nightly ritual, Daryl left with a large group to go on a multi-day run. Their scouts had reported a collection of fairly untouched farmhouses tucked deep into the woods, which caused a ripple of excitement to spread through the prison. Their food supply was manageable, but the prison had been steadily running out of other goods; soap, tools, toothpaste, etc., and everyone had been placing their orders for days leading up to it. Carol smiled absently as she washed the dishes, recalling how Daryl had come to see her the morning they left.

" _Anythin' you want me to look for? Besides books? We_ are _on the last chapter," he had murmured as he drew her into a tight embrace._

 _Carol felt her heart jump to her throat. She was excited about the prospect of new supplies, but she couldn't fully disguise her worry. Multi-day runs yielded the biggest payoff, but they could also be the most dangerous. If anything went wrong the rest of the prison wouldn't know or be able to help until days later when they didn't return on time. She turned her face into his chest and grasped at his vest._

" _The only thing I want," she said quietly, "Is for you to come back. Preferably in one piece."_

" _Always do," Daryl said, nuzzling into her soft curls, "Gotta keep finding out what happens next," though she knew he wasn't entirely talking about the book. With that he gave he gave her one last squeeze and kissed her forehead, saving a full kiss for when he returned as he always did._

 _Then he was gone._

Carol felt a familiar lump of anxiety begin to bubble in her chest. They were supposed to be back within the hour and weren't technically late yet, but as each minute passed with no sign of them her stomach knotted tighter and tighter. The prison hummed with anticipation, almost everyone occupying themselves with busy work but jerking their heads up at each distant noise. Carol finished the dishes and began to pace around the kitchen, wiping surfaces that had already been wiped and absentmindedly shuffling appliances around. She barely noticed Maggie join her, though she was equally distracted as she clearly worried about Glenn.

Finally, she heard a distant shout come from a guard tower. Everyone in the prison thundered to the exits, anxious to welcome the group back, but Carol stood frozen in place. She strained her ears, trying to pick out the low roar of Daryl's motorcycle among all the rest of the commotion.

"Come on," Maggie urged, pulling on Carol's shoulder. "They're back!" As Carol allowed Maggie to lead her out of the kitchen she briefly let herself to swell with hope. As they neared the gates, however, Carol's breath caught in her throat. She couldn't see clearly through the crowd, but something was wrong: everyone had fallen deathly silent.

Maggie blindly pushed them to the front of the crowd, and Carol saw what everyone was staring at. Of the three trucks, one motorcycle, and eleven people that had left days earlier, only one vehicle had come back through the gates. Rick emerged from the truck first, carrying the body of one of the newer arrivals his arms. He was followed by Michonne, who also carried a body, then Glenn, which caused Maggie to whimper and break from the somber crowd to throw herself at him. He carried a body as well. Carol searched her eyes over the truck as she strained to see inside it. One, two, three, four… five people, each pulling a body from around the back of the truck and carrying it solemnly to the dead person's grieving friends. No motorcycle. No Daryl. Carol could feel her knees start to buckle and she leaned on the person nearest to her, someone whose name she couldn't remember, but she didn't care.

She had only ever felt such a level of fear once before in her life. Her hands began to shake, and she barely heard herself mutter, "No, no, no, no," as the person next to her awkwardly tried to hold her steady. Snippets of him came back to her in flashes: telling her the legend behind the Cherokee roses, carrying her from the tombs, tracing her arms in the early morning, sighing contently as she read to him, on and on the memories came, obscuring her senses and twisting her stomach. Her vision clouded with tears and adrenaline surged through her as her fight or flight instinct kicked in. With a burst of energy she sprinted towards the truck, though she was stopped by Rick grabbing her elbow.

"Let GO of me!" she roared, desperate to break away and search the truck for him. Dead, alive, injured, or missing, she needed to know more than she needed air to breathe.

"Carol," Rick said quickly, though there was an edge of softness to his voice. She paused her fighting and searched his eyes with her own watery, desperate ones.

"Carol," he said again. "He's... okay." Carol took a sharp breath, barely even noticing how Rick hesitated on the last word.

 _He's okay. He's okay. He's okay._

She registered a movement behind Rick, and her eyes widened as she saw Daryl hop off the back tailgate of the truck. His shoulders were heavy and his eyes were downcast, but he seemed mostly intact. He was alive. Carol broke free from Rick and rushed for him, enveloping in a fierce embrace and letting out a gut-wrenching sob of relief.

"Ow, ow, Carol," he winced, trying to loosen her vice grip around his ribs. She ignored him and continued to press into his chest, afraid to let him go again. The rest of the crowd had begun to filter towards the truck, half-heartedly sorting through the scant items they had brought back by the time he was able to wrestle her shoulders away so she could face him.

"I'm okay," he said, caught off guard by the intensity of her reaction.

"God _dammit_ ," she cried, weakly hitting her fists against his chest. "Goddammit, Daryl. I didn't see your bike, then you didn't come out of the truck… I thought you were _gone_."

"S'okay," he murmured, drawing her shaking body back into him and letting her wear herself out against his chest. "I was just around the back with my bike. Blew out both tires. M'alright, woman."

Carol lifted her head to his and kissed him fiercely, so wracked with giddy relief that she abandoned all care of who might see them. If anyone did notice they did not acknowledge it, respectfully giving them space. There was nothing soft or tender about the kiss, she devoured him with a ferocity so intense he stumbled back, like she was dying in the desert and he was her only source of water. He kissed her back deeply, then pulled away after a moment to rub her tears away from her cheeks. He looked at her with hollow eyes, and she knew something terrible must have happened.

"Tell ya later," he said quietly as if he could read her thoughts. Gently, he maneuvered her around so his arm was wrapped around her shoulder and they made their way back up to the prison, Carol's arms clutched firmly around his waist.

They arrived at his cell and she disentangled herself from him long enough for him to take off his boots and vest. He sat on the bed with his head in his hands and she crawled behind him, wrapping her arms around his midsection and resting her cheek against his back. She reveled in the way she fit around him perfectly, focusing on nothing but feeling his pulse beat into her skin. Carol screwed up her eyes as she again re-lived the few moments where she had been convinced he hadn't made it back. She was still shaking slightly, still feeling immense relief that he was alive and uninjured. Still, she knew there was something off about him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked quietly.

Daryl sighed and shook his head. Carol feared that he was building up walls around himself again, walls that she had been working so hard to chip away at, but instead he turned his head to face her. He lightly grasped the back of her neck and guided them together, kissing her with such tenderness that it took her breath away. Something had happened, and she knew he was telling her that he would talk about it when he was ready.

"You need a shower," she said lightly, rubbing at the layer of grime and… blood? that coated his forearm. Rather than struggling against her suggestion as she had anticipated, Daryl simply nodded. Carol raised him up off the bed and reached for his towel. He allowed her to guide him down the hallway to the shower room, raising his eyebrows when she stopped at her room to get her own towel.

They made it to the shower room and Carol drew back the curtain of one of the stalls. Her breath quickened and she steeled herself for what she was about to do. Slowly, she worked the buttons of his shirt and slid it off his tense shoulders before reaching for his belt. She had never ventured below his waist before and was half expecting him to stop her. Finding no resistance, however, she let go of his pants and they fell to the ground, leaving him clad in nothing but boxers. Carol felt suddenly shy and looked at the ground, though she kept her hands on his waist. Daryl seemed to sense her trepidation and stepped forward until their chests touched. He lightly rested his chin on her forehead and she circled her arms around to rest on his back, instantaneously comforted by the sound of his beating heart. _Ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum._ Each beat reminded her that he was there. He was okay. He was alive.

"Nothin' ya don't wanna do," he reminded her softly.

Carol nodded and brought her hands up to hold the sides of his face. He looked at her with such brokenness that her heart shattered, and she pressed her lips to his in a desperate attempt to show him that she was going to be there for him no matter what. He kissed her back, hands running through her hair and down the back of her neck, though he stopped himself as he always did at the collar of her t-shirt. Carol reached to grip one of his hands and brought it down to the hem of her shirt. Slowly, she helped him ease it over her head and her jeans quickly followed until they were both standing in front of each other in nothing but their threadbare underclothes. Carol had expected to feel exposed and uncomfortable, but Daryl just looked at her the same way he always did, with a quiet reverence that she wasn't used to seeing directed at her. He reached to turn the water on, and Carol was relieved that it ran hot that day.

"Carol…" he breathed as she snapped her bra off and took her underwear with it, finally exposing herself to him in her entirety. "You're... you're amazing."

Carol crinkled her eyes and stepped into the stream of water. She heard him pull his underwear off and cast it aside, but before she could react he had stepped behind her, encircling his arms around her waist and drawing her close enough to feel each other's pulse. Carol could feel his entire body pressed against her from calf to neck, and she reveled in the comfort of his strong arms wrapped around her like a vice and the warmth they shared. Never in her life had she dreamed that she would ever be able to share such a level of intimacy with another person. Ed had done nothing but tear her down and make her ashamed of everything about herself. She thought back to her old life and knew he had never looked at her the way Daryl did, never respected her like he did, never treated her as… _lovingly_ as he did. A sudden thought came to her like an electric shock:

 _This is what it's supposed to be like._

She had convinced herself she loved Ed in the beginning, but she had never shared the kind of connection with him that she and Daryl had there in the shower. As soon as it came to her she knew it to be as simple and as true and as irrevocable as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west:

 _I love him._

Carol turned her body to face his and she raked her eyes over the tired lines of his face, the bags under his eyes, all the imperfections that made him _him_. She ran her hands through his hair to soak the water all the way through, then she reached to squirt a dollop of shampoo onto her hand from the dispenser on the wall. She turned him around and reached up, massaging firmly into his scalp to rid him of the dirt and grime and bad thoughts that held his mind captive.

Carol hummed a soft song and he relaxed slightly, dropping his shoulders and leaning back as he allowed her to rinse the shampoo from his hair. She reached for more shampoo but he stopped her, instead dispensing it onto his own hand and returning the favour. She kept humming and closed her eyes as he rinsed her, then she sunk backward into his arms once again and they stood motionless for a little while longer.

"It was bad," Daryl said suddenly, causing Carol to halt her humming. She looked up sideways at him quizzically and waited for him to elaborate, but he just shook his head and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Real bad. Didn't think I was gonna make it back."

Carol's stomach tightened and she reached her hand up to grasp the back of his neck as she said, "But you did. You always do, remember?"

Daryl sighed heavily and absentmindedly rubbed his hands over the taut skin of her stomach. He shook his head slightly and said in a voice so small it scared her, "One day I might not… one of these days-"

But Carol cut him off by turning to face him and silencing him with her lips.

"Don't," she whispered into his mouth, lips still touching. "Don't say that."

Daryl frowned and broke their touch entirely, standing a full step back from her so the stream of water separated them as a dark look clouded his face.

"Dammit, Carol," he growled, and she could feel dread trickling town the back of her neck and pooling in her toes. She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly painfully aware of her nakedness and try as she might to move towards him she was frozen in place, held prisoner by his sudden coldness. "What the fuck are we doin'? If I care about ya... if ya really care about me, one of us is gonna end up hurtin' one way or another. Would be kinder to jus' stop whatever… whatever _you_ think this is," he finished bitterly.

Carol's blood ran cold. Just as it had earlier at the truck, her mind wrestled for the briefest second with the decision to either fight or flee. She considered just grabbing her towel and running back to her cell and was on the verge of doing so when something snapped within her.

 _No_.

Maybe that's what the old Carol would have done, but she knew him well enough to know that he was only trying to push her away and hurt her before she had the chance to hurt him. She stepped sideways to block the shower door in case he was considering the same dilemma, and held his gaze with fiery blue eyes.

"No. You don't get to do that," she said fiercely, holding a hand up to silence Daryl when he opened his mouth to protest. "You don't get to pretend like I'm the only one who's in this so you can save yourself. You don't get to tell me what to feel. I don't give a god-damn if we die tomorrow. I choose this, and I _know_ you do too."

Carol's heart was hammering so loudly she was sure he could hear it even over the rush of the water, but she stood her ground and met his glare with her own. They stood in a standoff, both silently daring the other to break eye contact first. Carol uncrossed her arms and moved to place them on her hips, but before she could finish Daryl had crossed the shower floor and crashed his mouth into hers so forcefully she let out a muffled yelp of surprise. Her senses were completely overwhelmed with his sudden presence; his slick skin all she could see, feel, and taste; the sound of the water muffling in her mind as his heavy, needy breaths overtook her ears.

 _I love him._

She ran her hands all over his exposed skin, digging her nails in when he clamped his mouth to her neck and bit down. Still though, he kept his hands firmly planted on her hips and didn't move his mouth below her collarbone, and she whimpered with awe when she realized the restraint he must be forcing on himself to maintain her boundaries.

 _I love him._

His lips brushed over her skin where he bit, suckling tender apologies before repeating the process again and again. For the moment, he was all there was in the world to her. Carol gasped each time he ground into her and all of her trepidation vanished into the steam of the shower.

 _I love him._

He moved his mouth all over her neck and jaw and ear and shoulder in a silent cry for forgiveness and acceptance and reassurance. She tangled her hands in his soaking hair, urging him up to meet her eyes. Daryl panted heavily as he broke from her skin, his eyes betraying what she had known all along: he couldn't leave her. Their breathing slowed together as she pressed her forehead to his.

"Do you want me?" Carol breathed, as much of a plea as it was a question.

Daryl pulled back, searching her face for any hint of uncertainty. "This ain't really how I pictured it," he muttered with a half-smile, glancing over the shower stall. "But- _fuck_ , woman-" he groaned as she grasped his hips and pulled him to her. "I ain't _never_ wanted anything so bad before."

Carol released his hips but moved her hands on his face and nudged him to look at her again. All memory of Ed was gone from her mind, rinsed down the drain with the shampoo suds as she absorbed Daryl's lustful stare and she thought she might die if he broke their touch again.

Daryl was trembling, and she felt heat flood to her centre when she realized that he was shaking with desire. Desire for _her_. He gripped her hips tight and managed to croak out, "Ain't gonna do anythin' until ya tell me to. And if ya want me to slow down or stop jus' say so and I will, alright? Swear on my life."

Carol gripped his hands over her hips and moved them up until they settled on her supple breasts, pressing her hands into his to impress how badly and immediately she needed his touch. He squeezed his eyes and exhaled sharply like he was in pain.

"I need you to tell me," he said shakily.

Carol softened as she realized that he had likely been so beaten down and made to feel dirty and worthless during his upbringing that nothing but her explicit direction would be enough to allow himself to touch her.

"Daryl," she said in a low voice, still pressing his hands to her breasts. She leaned in to kiss him lightly. "I want this. Please…" she lowered one of his hands to the cleft between her legs to let him feel her moisture and his trembling intensified. "I need you _right now_ ," she pleaded.

As soon as she voiced her consent Daryl wasted no time. He surprised Carol by grasping both her legs at the same time and hitching them up around his waist, bracing her against the shower wall as his erection strained to be released from its place between their stomachs. Every thought in Carol's head vanished as he assaulted her neck again, this time hitching her further up so he could take her breasts in his mouth, switching between the two as he rolled her hardened nipples gently between his teeth. Carol writhed with anticipation, clawing at his back and whispering a string of, " _Please, Daryl, please, please, please_ ," into his ear between nips.

Just as Carol was beginning to fear that she would lose her mind with unfulfilled desire, Daryl raised her hips with his strong hands and slowly sunk her down onto his iron hard length. Carol's mind exploded with sensation, and she was so consumed with the long-awaited feeling of him filling her up that she almost didn't notice his own strangled groan as they settled together for the first time like two halves of a broken heart.

They only remained still long enough for Daryl to murmur, "You okay?" and her to fervently nod her response before he began bucking his hips ferociously, their moans and whimpers of pleasure tangling together as he pounded into her with abandon. She gripped his slick hips with her legs, the heat between them so overwhelming that she hardly noticed the water beginning to cool. Carol's eyes drifted closed and she allowed him to take her to places she had never been before, each snap of his hips bringing her higher and higher. Each noise she made seemed to only turn him on more, and she could feel his pace quicken and knew he wouldn't be long.

"Fuck," he growled into her collarbone. "Not… not gonna… last," he grunted in-between thrusts.

"Yes," she hissed, digging her nails into his back, unbelievably turned on by the thought that he was about to come _for_ and _because_ of her. "Yes Daryl," she repeated, pressing his head into the hollow of her neck.

Her desperate encouragement sent him over the edge. Daryl's whole body shook with a mighty tremor and he let out a sputtering cry, hips bucking and jerking erratically as he overflowed into her. Carol held him close, feeling the pulse from his neck beat into her chest in time with the pulsing of his cock still firmly inside her. He heaved into her neck for a few breaths and she stroked lightly up and down his back, humming contentedly into his ear.

Daryl slowly slid out of her, twitching with newfound sensitivity, and she released the iron grip of her legs from around his hips. They clung onto each other for support against their shaking legs, neither willing to let the other go as they let the icy spray cool their slick, trembling bodies.

A wide grin began to spread over Carol's face and she shivered into him, his back taking the brunt of the now fully cold water. What they had just done could certainly not be considered lovemaking, it was too primal and animalistic for that, but his enduring gentleness when he asked if she was okay and the way his fingers had dug firmly but carefully into her flesh to keep her upright had made her feel more genuinely desired and appreciated than she had ever known she could.

"Goddamn that's cold," he muttered, which caused her to explode into a fit of tiny giggles. The whole day had been such an emotional rollercoaster that she could not contain her immense joy and relief at finally having him exactly where he was always meant to be. Daryl chuckled along with her and tilted her head up by her chin to place tender, soft kisses all over her lips and face.

"You're still filthy," Carol said, still giggling, as she rubbed at the caked dirt that coated his arms like armor.

Daryl snorted and quickly spun her around so she was attacked by the freezing water. Carol screeched in surprise and he taunted her playfully, "Better do somethin' about that real quick or one of us is gonna catch a cold."

She jokingly hit his shoulder and reached for the bar of soap that was balanced precariously on top of the dispenser, making quick work of thoroughly scrubbing him down. She paused when she reached his back, running the soap delicately over his scars as if they would burst open again if she pressed too much. Daryl rinsed off and did the same to her as fast as he could, paying extra attention to the scars that littered her torso. Their teeth were chattering but they kept trading smiles and laughter, and Carol thought vaguely that she hadn't been so happy in a very long time.

 _I love him._

Finally clean, Daryl flicked the tap off and reached for their towels before drawing her back into his embrace. They halted their playfulness as he stroked a hand through her clean hair.

"You alright?" he murmured, and she detected a hint of nervousness in his husky voice. She lifted her head and kissed him deeply, both incredulous and appreciative that he took such good care of her.

"I…" she began, and traced her hand down his stomach to lightly caress the appendage she had just become acquainted with, "Am better than I have _ever_ been."

Daryl's breath hitched at her touch and he drew a towel around her shivering frame before tying one around his own waist.

"Good thing the night is still young," he growled suggestively into her temple. She yelped as he grabbed their clothes and swept her up into his arms in one fluid motion. She giggled again and nestled her face unabashedly into his chest, not giving a care in the world who might see them as he carried her out of the shower room. She could feel his heart beating strong and fast through the bare skin of her chest, and she wondered lazily what might be in store for them for the rest of the night.

 _I love him._


	6. Chapter 6

This one is lots of floof and not a lot of plot. Also lots of smut. Thanks for all your support so far! Please let me know what you think :)

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Daryl was convinced he was about to wake up alone in his bed as usual at any second. There was no way that Carol was really snuggled into his chest as he carried her down the hallway. There was no way he had really hitched her up on the wall of the shower and there was _certainly_ no way she had begged for him so desperately it had almost driven him mad. Still, he couldn't deny that her warm weight in his arms and her contented little breaths and the intoxicatingly sweet scent she radiated was much more vivid than any dream he usually had. Carol strained upwards to say something in his ear and he complied without a second thought, adjusting his grip to hold her up more firmly.

"Your place or mine?" she whispered in what Daryl guessed was supposed to be an ironic attempt at a seductive voice. _Definitely_ no way this was really happening.

"Yours?" he heard himself reply as they closed in on her cell. A sharp gasp came from behind them and Daryl whipped around so suddenly he nearly caught Carol's head on the wall. A flash of blonde disappeared back out of the cell block and Daryl rolled his eyes snorted.

"Beth," he muttered. She had been making her weird little crush on him pretty obvious for a while, but he had always just dismissed her as an annoying kid sister. It was bad enough she had just seen him in a towel, but she was no doubt on her way to tell everyone that she had just seen him with Carol, also in a towel, also in his arms, heading directly for Carol's room. Daryl winced with embarrassment as he realized she also must have had a full view of all the fresh scratches that littered his back and shoulders, courtesy of Carol's fingernails. Carol sighed and shook her head.

"Let them talk," she murmured.

Daryl smiled slightly and his embarrassment melted away as he breathed in the clean scent of her hair just under his chin. She had an uncanny way of making all his worries seem far away and abstract.

When they got to her room Daryl considered tossing her unceremoniously on the bed like he would have if they were still nothing but good friends, but opted instead to place her down gently. She settled down onto the bed and looked up at him with sparkling blue eyes and a crinkled smile that made Daryl's knees weaken. He tossed their bundle of discarded clothes aside into her laundry pile and stood for a moment longer just looking at her. Her ratty towel betrayed every soft curve of her body and ended just inches below her hips. Daryl wondered with a flush what it would be like to taste her there, to run his fingers all over and inside her most sensitive areas. Carol reached out to grip his hand and he allowed her to pull him onto the bed. He settled behind her and pulled her close by her waist until they were flush from neck to ankle. As she laced their fingers together Daryl quietly whispered into her temple,

"Ya sure you're alright?"

Carol turned her body to face him and her towel came partially undone, though Daryl was more focused on gauging her expression with his nervous eyes.

"If I'm ever not, I'll let you know, okay?" she said, tracing a hand over his cheek and calming him.

Daryl closed his eyes. Though he had made a new life for himself among Rick's group, he still couldn't shake the insecurity that everyone thought of him as how he used to be with Merle; just another low life Dixon. He had a feeling that the way she so effortlessly looked past all of that and saw him for who he was would take a while to get used to.

Carol shivered, which brought Daryl back from his thoughts. He instinctively reached for her quilt and pulled it up to cover them, still not quite believing that he was really in her bed and she was really snuggled happily into his chest. Carol shifted and realized with a jolt that she was taking her towel off. His breath hitched as she fished it out from beneath the covers and threw it into her laundry pile, her naked skin impossibly warm and inviting as she pressed back into him.

"Don't wanna get the bed all damp," she murmured.

Daryl closed his eyes as she worked his towel off as well, and he felt his cock begin to stir once again, despite what had happened in the shower less than twenty minutes before. He brought a hand up to the back of her neck to hold her head close to his chest. He had not fathomed earlier during such a horrific day that he would end it with a naked, willing, beautiful woman, least of all Carol. When he had been trapped under the dying body of one of his group with walkers closing in fast, he had begged God or the universe or whatever powers there might be that he could have one more day, just one more chance, he would do anything, he just needed one more opportunity to… _what_? Carol was all he could think of in what was sure were his last moments, but now that he was safe with her again he could not find the right words to say. Daryl desperately wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, how good she made him feel, how she had given him a newfound purpose, how he valued their inexplicable connection more than his own life, but his throat closed when he searched for meaningful words. Instead, he pressed his lips into her hair and sighed. If whatever was happening between them was to continue, he was hopeful that the right words would come to him in time. Besides, he didn't want to complicate things by talking them to death, and was content enough with just seeing where the rest of the night would take them.

* * *

Carol smiled slightly as Daryl kissed into her hair. Her body was being tugged in two different directions by her mind: half of her wanted nothing more than to relax into his chest and drift off into a dreamy sleep, but the other half was buzzing with the desperate longing to continue where they had left off in the shower. By the way his pulse had quickened and judging by the hardening lump beginning to press into her stomach, she figured he was thinking along the same lines. Carol tilted her head up and his mouth found hers, sending white hot tingles to every nerve ending in her body and she melted again into his lips. As his hands trailed down her bare sides to settle on her hips, she gave in to the part of her mind that was screaming for physical touch. He grasped her hips firmly and rolled them so he was still cradling her head on his arm as he leaned halfway over her, her breath catching as he trailed his hand slowly down the sides of her neck and gently between her breasts before coming to rest on her lower stomach.

"Guess I kinda… neglected you… there in the shower," he said huskily into her ear. Carol was dizzy, she had never been with a man who had been concerned with her pleasure, and Daryl's sudden attention was a welcome surprise. He was sending pleasant tingles up and down her spine as she allowed him to part her legs and he began lightly, maddeningly, brushing his fingertips over the insides of her thighs. She took his face in her hands, meeting his eyes and gasping lightly when he teased her by stopping his hand just short of her cleft.

He smiled a little nervously and buried his face in her neck, whispering, "Tell me what you like," before kissing the soft spot behind her ear just as delicately as he was tracing her thighs.

Carol squirmed and whimpered. He was driving her crazy and he hadn't even touched her there yet.

"I want you…" she began, but suddenly felt shy. She had never been explicitly asked what she liked before and, truth be told, was much more used to taking care of herself than directing someone else. Daryl noticed her face heat up and he met her eyes again.

"S'okay," he breathed, looking at her like she was the only thing that existed in his entire world, "I'm not… not really used to this either."

Carol smiled slightly, oddly comforted that it was new territory for him just as much as it was for her. She bit her lip and reached down to clasp his wrist. Slowly, she guided his fingers to trace her slit, shuddering at the sensation, then brushed his fingers over the little nub of her clit.

She brought their lips together again and pulled back after a moment to hesitantly whisper, "Touch me," before sinking back into the kiss.

Daryl complied, slowly but firmly exploring her folds and focusing on the little nub that elicited sharp gasps from her. As he moved his fingers in a mind numbing, teasing rhythm, it was all Carol could do to bite back the whimpers and cries that were threatening to escape her throat. She had been less cautious in the shower, but that was before others had begun to make their way back into the cell block. She could hear quiet conversation as people shuffled by her room, totally oblivious to what was happening inside, and she swallowed back her noises as best as she could. Daryl, sensing her self-consciousness, stifled her gasps by kissing her firmly in time with the rhythm of his hands. She whimpered into his mouth, grinding her hips insistently into his hand, and pulled back to slap her own hand over her mouth when his fingers found her entrance and curiously pushed inside.

"Oh God," she let out in a muffled moan as he curled two fingers inside her and began a slow stroking motion that almost sent her over the edge right there. Twisting the fingers of her other hand in his hair, the rest of the world melted away until only two things remained: the maddening sensation of his fingers deep within her as he stroked a "come here" motion with increasing speed and the fading instinct to stay quiet. When it had almost become too much she reached down and quickly gripped his wrist. As badly as she wanted him to continue, her core burned white hot with the need to have him inside her again. He stopped immediately when she touched his wrist, withdrawing and searching her face with a worried expression and her chest swelled at how true he had been to his promise to stop if she wanted to. Before he could ask if she was okay, she nodded reassurance into his lips with her own.

Carol moved her hands to grip his shoulders when he relaxed and pulled until he was fully on top of her, his legs between hers and his cock back at full attention hovering just in front of her slick entrance. His voice was ragged when he whispered,

"You sure? I haven't finished-" but she cut him off by guiding his hand down to once again rest on her clit. She smiled slightly and bit her lip and he understood, circling her nub again as he lowered himself into her. He trembled as he sank in, the tantalizing feeling of him stretching her walls making Carol see stars. She suppressed a moan by pressing her face into his shoulder and he did the same into her hair as he held her head close and let her adjust to him once again.

When Daryl finally moved, the rusty old bed squeaked and he halted briefly. He enveloped her lips with his and absorbed her strangled moans of pleasure as he tried to find a rhythm that wouldn't draw unwanted attention. Finally, he found a way to move so the bed was silent, though it required every last modicum of restraint he possessed to be able to move so slowly and deliberately. Their motions were completely different than they had been before, their kisses tender and sweet and their touches gentle and loving. Intimate. Completely focused on the cues and sounds of the other person as they tensed and breathed in a fluid rhythm. They rocked back and forth together at such a teasingly slow pace that Carol was surprised to find she was actually grateful for, as it gave her a chance to really appreciate him in his entirety. The way his muscles contracted under her palm with each motion, so in sync with his breathy grunts between kisses, lit a fire that began to burn low in her belly.

Carol greedily inhaled his unmistakeable scent that even a thorough shower could not erase, and the fire burned hotter as he moved his hand more insistently over her clit. Her stomach began to tense and release as pressure built within her and with every one of his soft thrusts and hand motions she knew she was nearing that elusive edge. Daryl responded to her change in body language by increasing his pace on her clit, though he kept his thrusts to the same rhythm and he nipped and kissed at the soft skin of her neck and ear. Her breath quickened and she began to quiver, breaking from their kiss to close her eyes and focus on nothing but the pure sensation he was causing, feeling Daryl's eyes on her but too intent on the tension in her core to care. Quivering quickly turned to full blown shaking and before Carol could fully prepare herself he had sent her tumbling over the edge, wave after wave of sheer ecstasy crashing over her as she ground her hips up into him. Some vague corner of her mind reminded her to stifle her noise, so she brought a hand up to cover her mouth and was surprised to find his own already there. Carol clung to his hand with her own as she let out throaty moans and breathy whimpers into his skin.

She was just beginning to come down from her high when his body tensed around hers and he found his own release, slower but more drawn out than his first climax in the shower. He pressed his lips into her hand that still covered his own over her mouth to stifle his own cry, before collapsing into a heaving, exhausted pile on top of her. Carol relished the weight of him, strangely comforted by his heavy presence and the reverberation of his heartbeat thudding against her chest.

Carol had never known sex could be like it was with Daryl. She had seen it depicted in movies and media, of course, but sex for her had always been an obligation. A chore much like washing the dishes; something that needed to be done, but not something to look forward to. With Daryl though, it was like an entirely new world she had never experienced before. She had always thought romantic movies exaggerated sex, but after having Daryl so passionately and then so tenderly she realized no movie she had ever seen could hold a candle to what they had shared together.

 _I love him._

Carol knew it to be just as true and irrevocable as when the thought had first invaded her mind. However, the knowledge that she not only loved Daryl as a person but was truly in love with him did not frighten her in the slightest. If anything, it empowered her. It gave her strength and a new sense of purpose she feared had been lost forever after Sophia died. As Daryl ran his fingers gently through her hair and sighed in her ear, she wondered dimly why the thought of loving another person, such a dangerous prospect in such a time, did not scare her at all.

It would have been easy for Daryl to get up and leave, or at least roll over and take the blanket with him. Instead, he drew her closer and as he brought the blanket over them she realized why the thought of loving him didn't scare her:

 _Maybe he loves me too._

* * *

Daryl awoke a few hours later and was momentarily disappointed, thinking he really had woken up alone in his own bed and that his evening with Carol had all been a dream. Before the thought had fully formed in his sleepy mind, however, he realized that there was a very Carol-shaped figure cuddled up as the little spoon beside him. She was snoring quietly, her breath coming in slow, even wisps as she exhaled on Daryl's hands and he smiled softly into the nape of her neck. She had tangled their fingers together and brought them up to rest next to her head when he wrapped around her from behind, both of them falling asleep almost instantaneously. He breathed her in, trying to commit every moment they had just shared to memory before getting up to face the day.

He needed to hunt. Their food supply had taken an expected hit when he left on the run, and he knew there would be no time for lazing around in the early morning with Carol, as much as he wanted to. Besides that, though, hunting would give him a chance to clear his mind, to decompress from the disastrous run and sort through what had happened with Carol. He could tell the sky was still dark through the tiny prison windows, but also knew it wouldn't be long before the sun was up and he should get a move on. Slowly, he tried to disentangle himself without waking her. He had forgotten they were still completely nude and felt almost shy at having her naked body so exposed and vulnerable before him. He reached down to give her a light kiss on her neck before he sat up, and the slight motion caused her to stir. She let out a sleepy groan and turned around to burrow into his chest, and Daryl briefly considered just forgetting about hunting and holding her for a little while longer. After a few agonizing seconds, he forced himself to sit up and she mumbled something unintelligible.

"Hmm?" he whispered quietly, not sure if she had fully woken or if she was sleep talking.

"Be safe," she murmured in a sleepy voice that melted his heart. The only thing that motivated him to leave was the thought of falling asleep with her again later that day, and hopefully in the days after that, if she would let him. Daryl stood and quickly pulled his discarded clothes on and grabbed his towel, then he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead.

"Nine lives," he said softly, but she was lightly snoring again when he pulled away and headed off to start the new day.


	7. Chapter 7

This one is really angsty and sweet, I think, but fear not as there is still smuttiness at the end. Thank you to everyone who has favourited/followed/reviewed so far, the next chapter is already in the works! As always I love hearing your feedback, as well as ideas for upcoming chapters/scenarios :)

* * *

Carol spent the rest of the morning in a daze. She glided through the motions of helping to prepare breakfast like usual, but her mind was somewhere else entirely. She was almost embarrassed that Daryl could evoke such a reaction from her. All she could think of was his rough hands running along her smooth skin, the way he looked at her naked body like it was the most appetizing thing he had ever seen, his musky scent, and his throaty growls when he came.

Carol sat down with her coffee, stirring it around absentmindedly instead of drinking it. Maggie soon joined her and began venting about something, but Carol was hardly paying any attention.

"She actually wants to switch her work rotation so she doesn't have to work in the kitchen next week, can you believe it? All I know is that it's messing up the schedule and she won't even say why. Soon everyone else will be trying to switch their duties too."

"Mmm," Carol said noncommittally, staring into the coffee whirlpool she was creating.

"I mean, do you know why she's acting up? Have you heard anything?"

"Mmm, I see," Carol said.

Maggie rolled her eyes. " _Carol_. You didn't even hear a word I just said."

Carol refocused her eyes on Maggie and shook her head. "Sorry, I… what were you saying?"

"Beth. Any idea what's up with her?"

Carol's eyes widened but she kept quiet, shrugging her shoulders and focusing on her coffee again. She was sure Beth would have told everyone, but was relieved to realize she hadn't. Carol glanced around the dining hall and quickly found Beth staring daggers at her from across the room. Carol realized with surprise that Beth must be trying to avoid working with her.

Maggie noticed Beth's glower at Carol and she narrowed her eyes. "Well, if anyone feels like telling me what the hell is going on around here, I'll be doing my actual job," she said irritably before clearing her dishes. She paused briefly and locked eyes with Carol when she said, "Can't keep anything a secret around here for long, you know."

A while later, Hershel called an emergency Council meeting. Some of the newcomers were stirring up trouble and they needed to decide how to proceed. Daryl had returned from a successful hunt, and it was the first time Carol had seen him since he left her in the morning. Taking his usual seat beside from her, and stole a little glance over at her accompanied with a slight smile. Carol's ears burned. Daryl was stirring up emotions she had long forgotten about, making butterflies beat against her chest like a lovesick teenager.

The conversation was getting heated. Daryl and Sasha were vehemently in favour of throwing the small group out, but Hershel and Glenn were adamant that they be allowed to stay, additional work detail assigned for a few weeks.

"They were barely alive when they got here, they won't survive outside the walls!" Glenn shouted.

"That ain't our problem!" Daryl fired back.

Sasha nodded in agreement, voicing her support with, "We have rules for a reason. One crack in the system and soon we'll have too much pushback on our hands to handle. I say we make an example out of them."

Hershel shook his head. "We can't just throw them out to fend for themselves. They were barely alive when they got here, we have to keep our humanity."

Carol watched the argument unfold like a tennis match. She could see both sides, and was waiting for them to run out of steam before she said her piece.

"These people could be tryin' to take us for all we're worth," Daryl argued. "We can't risk everyone else for people we don't know. If we give them a chance -"

"We have to believe that people are still fundamentally good," Glenn said, cutting Daryl off, but before he could go on Daryl stood up and slammed both hands on the table which startled everyone into silence.

"How're you so fuckin' stupid?!" he shouted. "You saw what happened on that run! You saw that people ain't all good anymore!"

His outburst seemed to startle even himself, and he halted, though he was still gripping the table and breathing heavily. Carol could see a familiar look flash across his face, and she knew he was seconds from storming out. She reached out and gently but firmly placed a hand on his arm. Daryl looked at her and she met his eyes without judgment, just a silent command to calm down. He allowed her to guide him back to his chair and took a breath. Everyone at the table was quiet, then Hershel spoke.

"Carol, what about you?"

Carol looked sideways at Daryl when she replied, "We don't know if these people are good or bad. Hershel and Glenn are right - " she held her hand up when Daryl opened his mouth to argue, and he fell silent again, "but so are Daryl and Sasha. We need to establish that we make the rules, not them. I suggest a few days locked up and then a little while of probation. If they pull any kind of shit during then, they will be gone, no questions asked."

The rest of the Council sat contemplating her compromise for a moment. Hershel moved to accept her proposal, seconded by Glenn, then Sasha and Daryl reluctantly agreed.

When the meeting adjourned, Daryl caught up to Carol in the hallway.

"M'sorry," he said quietly. "Didn't mean t' lose my temper. It's just…" but he trailed off.

Carol placed her hand on his chest. It didn't sound like much, but his simple apology showed how far he had come in the last few months. Without Merle he was becoming a better person with every passing day.

"It's okay," she said. "You can talk to me when you're ready, alright?"

Daryl nodded, and she leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading off again.

* * *

Once the day had wound down, Daryl made his way to Carol's cell and tentatively knocked on her doorframe. He was nervous, and although he knew he was being irrational he was afraid she was angry with him for his earlier outburst. She called him in and his chest softened, anxiety melting away when he saw she already had a book in her hands. After a draining day, he wanted nothing more than to settle into Carol's lap and let her soft voice carry him to a made up world.

She was in her usual tank top that she wore to bed, and Daryl's cheeks reddened when he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. It wasn't that he hadn't seen her like that before, but now that he knew exactly how her little rosebud nipples tasted, it was all he could think of. He mentally reprimanded himself as he set his crossbow down and took his boots off. Carol scooched up into her usual place at the head of the bed with her back against the wall and Daryl let out a long sigh as he settled down into her lap.

"How are you?" Carol murmured, brushing the hair back from his forehead.

"Better now," he said. He closed his eyes and soaked in the feeling of her fingertips raising goosebumps by running lightly over his scalp and tracing the sides of his face. Carol tentatively leaned down to brush her lips over his before opening the book. It was the other one he had brought her, a no name romance novel that catered to women in airports and bored housewives, but he would listen to Carol read an instruction manual if she kept absentmindedly playing with his hair. He was just beginning to drift off when she nudged him.

"Want me to stop?" she asked, reaching for her candle to snuff it. Daryl shook his head and turned into her stomach.

"Finish the chapter?" he murmured, bringing his hand up around her to rest between her back and the wall. Carol smiled softly and finished the remaining pages, but rather than reluctantly sit up like he usually did when they ended a chapter, Daryl remained motionless in her lap. The council meeting was still weighing on his mind. Carol didn't say anything and instead traced down his neck and back as she waited for him to speak.

"The run…" he began, but trailed off. He glanced up at her and she nodded her encouragement. "We lost a lot of people."

Carol nodded again and waited patiently. Daryl took a breath. He was afraid to tell her what was on his mind, not so much because he was afraid of judgement but because giving voice to his thoughts would make them real.

"We lost a lot of people because of me."

"Daryl…" Carol began, he cut her off before she could say that it wasn't true.

"No, we did." Now that he had begun, he burned with the need to tell her everything. In hopes of what, Daryl didn't know. He didn't know if he was looking for anger or absolution, or maybe just a shoulder to cry on. Above all, he knew he could trust that Carol would listen without judgement and then offer her full, honest opinion. Daryl took a long breath before continuing.

"It was this little town 'bout twenty miles east," he began hesitantly, but then the words began to tumble out. "Hardly anythin' there besides a couple houses and this little community hall. Scout report has said it was stocked full, figured it was a shelter or somethin' back when everythin' first happened. Building looked clear so we went in. Right away we hear this screamin'. Wasn't any of us, sounded like a kid. We follow it to this big theatre type of room, and there's this little kid hanging off these curtains way up high and just screamin' her head off. Couple walkers were under her and she looked like she was losin' her grip. She's yellin' at us to help her, and I try to, but Rick tried t' stop me. Said somethin' ain't right… she wasn't screamin' till we were in the building, we woulda heard her from outside. An' she looked pretty clean and like she wasn't starvin' which was weird if she was on her own. The way she was hollerin' was off too, like she wasn't really that scared or somethin', I dunno. I knew what Rick was sayin' but I still went for her, I wasn't gonna just let her die. The rest o' them came after me. Then all the doors slammed shut an' the whole place went dark an' a door to a storage room or somethin' opened up and all these walkers swarmed us, dunno how many but it was too many for us to handle. We got trapped. Like fuckin' animals. Glenn and this other kid had flashlights and I dunno how we fought our way outta there but we did. Some of us did. Was all just a blur and I thought I was dead for sure. All out guys who died, they didn't stand a chance. Just dumb kids out on their first big run, an' they trusted the rest of us to keep them safe but we didn't, an' it was all 'cause I ignored my gut feelin'. I knew somethin' was off about that kid, I just… I couldn't…" Daryl trailed off and let out a heavy breath. He had been talking with his face pressed into Carol's stomach, though her motions had stilled and he could feel the weight of her stare pressing down on him.

"That kid..." he said. He chanced a side-eyed look up at her, and was surprised to see her eyes water.

"You saw Sophia," she said as a quiet statement rather than a question.

Daryl swallowed and nodded.

"I'm tired of people dying 'cause o' me," he said with tears stinging at the corners of his eyes to match her own.

"Daryl... " she breathed, and urged him upwards until his head was buried in her neck and she had him in a firm embrace. She said nothing as she held him, but he understood nonetheless. A few traitorous tears escaped despite his best efforts, and she brought a hand up to hold the back of his head when they hit her skin.

"Maybe it was your fault," she said quietly. "And maybe it wasn't. Maybe the people who set you up were waiting outside to kill you then. Maybe our people would have died anyway."

Daryl lifted his head to look at her and she rubbed at his tear tracks with her thumb.

"Shoulda been me," he mumbled, and she pursed her lips in a sorrowful smile as she brought his head back to her shoulder.

"No one knows how much time we have. Maybe we'll die tomorrow, maybe we won't. But we're not ashes yet. We're here. Maybe it is your fault, maybe it isn't, but you have to keep going. You have to because they don't get to."

Daryl looked up to meet her eyes again, and he let he quietly let a few tears fall freely.

"I…" he began, but stopped short. When he had been sure he was done for he had pleaded for one more day, thinking only of Carol and what he needed her to know, but now that he had the opportunity the words were catching in his throat. Instead, he leaned in and planted a small kiss on her lips. Carol gripped his shoulders and reciprocated, deepening the kiss briefly before pulling away to rest her forehead on his.

"For what it's worth," she said, tilting his chin so he could look at her. "You're still one of the good ones."

"I ain't never been the good guy," Daryl muttered.

"Well, you are to me. Always were," she said as she leaned in to kiss him lightly on the nose, cheeks, and forehead before returning to his lips. Daryl smiled and softened slightly, glad at least to have a weight lifted from his chest. Carol blew out the candle and they shifted until he was curled into her, pressed together entirely from head to toe on the narrow bed.

"Makes ya wonder what kinda people are out there," Daryl said into her chest as she held him close. "Fucked up to use a kid as bait. And ain't like we went there with a lot of supplies or anythin'. They must've been tryin' t' kill us just to kill us. An' it wouldn't'a been the first time, neither. It ain't like I wanna throw those people who are stirrin' up trouble out, but we don't know if they're capable o' somethin' like that."

Carol was silent for a moment, then she said, "That's what makes you one of the good ones. You want to protect your people, and I don't fault you for not trusting those new people. I know you don't just want to get rid of them for no reason."

Daryl closed his eyes and she hugged him tight and kissed him lightly.

"Don't wanna be takin' chances. Couldn't stand it if we give 'em another shot and they end up hurtin' people. Hurtin' you. An' I know you can take care o' yourself, I know that, but what if they just ain't good people?"

Carol nodded and pressed her lips to the top of his head. "I know it's a risk to give them another chance. We don't have to trust them completely, but we have to give them a chance to prove what kind of people they really are, good or bad."

Daryl sighed. The thought of something happening to Carol made his blood run cold.

"There isn't any sense in worrying," Carol said, seeming to sense his train of thought. "We can't plan for the future anymore. All we have is right now. Can't we just enjoy what we have right now and not think about all the different things that can go wrong tomorrow?"

Daryl knew she wasn't just talking about the situation with the troublemakers.

"That what we're doin' here?" he asked tentatively.

Carol contemplated his question for a moment, responding to his sudden stiffness with reassuring strokes.

"Yeah," she said finally. "Maybe the world will get right again and we can figure it out then. But until that happens, I like what we have going here. Just taking it a day at a time."

Daryl looked up at her and nodded, relieved.

"Besides," she said in a lighter tone, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "I like the other stuff, too."

Daryl snorted and readjusted so he was on his back and she was cuddled into his side.

"M'alright if ya wanna keep doin' that too," he returned.

Carol giggled and snuggled into him. He felt a hundred times lighter after unloading what had been weighing on his mind, and knowing she didn't think any less of him. He was still incredulous at everything that had transpired between them, and was able to drift off with the pleasant security of knowing she would be there when he woke up.

* * *

Daryl awoke in the early hours to what sounded like a monsoon pounding on the unyielding walls of the prison. Carol was sleeping soundly, still pressed tight against his chest, and Daryl contemplated if he should even bother trying to hunt. He decided to check out how bad it was outside, and managed to extract himself from Carol's vice grip without waking her. After a quick trip to one of the exits, he concluded there would be no point in trying to hunt in the freezing downpour. The warm summer thunderstorms were finished for the season, and the rain that morning was the cold, bitter kind of rain that announces the end of summer and beginning of the colder months. Daryl was mildly disappointed that hunting would be useless and thought he might as well stay up now that he was awake, but the thought of crawling back into a warm bed with Carol proved too tempting to resist.

Carol stirred when he lost his balance while pulling his boots off and ended up knocking over her chair when he struggled for support. She groaned at the rude awakening.

"Like a bull in a china shop," she muttered teasingly as he pulled back the blankets and slid his arm under her head to pull her close again.

"Sorry," he said softly. "Hoped I wouldn't wake ya."

"Too rainy?" she asked sleepily, molding her body around him again.

"Mmhm," he said into her temple, running his finger lightly over the curve of her ear and down her neck. "Go back to sleep for a little while."

Carol tilted her head back to look at him and his heart thudded in his chest at how adorable she was when she had just woken up, with her bleary eyes and tousled hair. She leaned in and he met her halfway with a gentle peck, causing Daryl to feel blood rush between his legs and rekindle the morning wood he'd woken up with. Embarrassed, he tried to readjust before she noticed but Carol was already giggling.

"Morning," she said, and kissed him again.

Daryl's cheeks burned, but there wasn't any way to hide it.

"Mornin'," he said in response, followed with a muttered, "Sorry. Can't help it."

Carol chuckled and she rolled until she was lying fully on top of him. Daryl liked her warm weight pressing on him and even in the faint light he noticed her eyes brighten.

"Who said you have to help it?" she asked, then leaned her head down to trail little kisses down his jaw and neck. Daryl's eyes flew open and he inhaled sharply, her warm presence and sweet scent invading his senses from all angles. He burned with desire every time her mouth moved to a new place on his goosebumped skin, and he breathed heavily into her hair to savour the sensation. Carol smiled between each teasing, maddeningly delicate kiss, and he involuntarily ground his hips up against her in response, his hard length straining between them. When she had finally covered each inch of his exposed neck and collarbone with her lips, Carol sat back on his legs to tug his shirt off with a devilish smile on her face. Before Daryl had even pulled it all the way over his head she had already descended back to his skin, gently nipping and licking a roadmap all over his chest and stomach. Carol's hands started to roam lower, and the rain outside mercifully drowned out Daryl's growl when she firmly stroked him over his clothes.

" _God_ , Carol," he moaned as she shifted herself lower on the bed and ran her lips over the waistband of his boxer shorts. His vision completely tunnelled, and he was unable to focus on anything but Carol and the desperate need she was stirring within him as she suckled gently on his lower stomach just above his underwear. Carol bit her lip as she tugged at the worn elastic, letting out a soft giggle when he finally sprang free. She toyed with him for a moment, and Daryl couldn't remember ever feeling so utterly helpless before, completely at the mercy of the beautiful woman in front of him who was stroking his cock delicately with her impossibly soft hands.

Daryl's eyes rolled back in his head and he cursed every deity there was when she enveloped him in her mouth for the first time. She only went as far as his head the first time, swirling her tongue teasingly before pulling back and then taking almost all of him the second time. Her mouth was impossibly wet, impossibly hot, and she was impossibly skilled at coordinating her lips, tongue, suction, and hands. Carol immediately found a rhythm that suited both of them, giving gently twists and pulls with her hand in time with her bobbing motions, and it was all Daryl could do to remember to breathe. The rain outside was a merciful muffler to the sounds she was causing him to make, but the mighty groan and string of expletives he let out when her fingers found his balls were likely heard by half the prison, if not the state of Georgia. Daryl knew Carol was enjoying every one of his responses, from the way his muscles twitched and tightened to his low whimpers, as he could feel her smirking smugly each time he alternated curse words and her name.

"Carol," he sputtered. He was nearing the point of no return and wanted to be inside her when he came, but she wasn't relenting. "Carol," he said again, in a more desperate voice. "I'm… goddammit, Carol…"

With one hand he was white knuckling the sheets, and with the other he was pawing at her shoulder for her to lift her head from his skin, but she pinned that hand to the bed and mercilessly picked up her pace. Daryl's breaths were coming fast and ragged, and he smacked a hand to his mouth as his vision went white and he spilled over into Carol's mouth, with a strangled "FUCK! Carol... fuck, _goddamn_."

Daryl lay limp, spent, and satiated on the sheets, and when he finally regained the strength to glance down he was met with a sight he'd imagined countless times but never thought would be: Carol, with her lips all red and shiny, was cleaning him up gently with her mouth. Her eyes held a wicked sparkle when she looked up at him, and Daryl could not reconcile what she had just done to him with the sweet, innocent front she put up to everyone else. Carol finished her task and crawled up to rest in the crook of his arm.

"Jesus, Carol," was all Daryl could muster in a weak voice.

"Not sure why you're so out of breath," Carol said slyly. "When I'm the one who did all the work."

"You're amazin'," he mumbled. "Amazin'. Never woulda guessed you had that in ya."

Carol giggled into his neck and he pressed kiss after kiss into her forehead, hoping to convey everything he felt for her without words.

"If you stick around for awhile you might be surprised," she said coyly, and brought her hand up to push the sweaty hair from his face.

"Mmm," Daryl hummed. She traced soothing little patterns into his chest, and he vaguely thought that he must have done something great in a past life to end up with a woman like her. She wasn't just Carol anymore, she was an inextricable part of him, just as much of a necessity as the air he was breathing.

He loved her, that was for sure, and he was almost sure she loved him back, but something caught in his throat whenever he tried to find the words to say. He had never loved anyone in his life, save for maybe his mother and Merle, but those were toxic loves. He didn't know how to love someone without hurting them, or without getting hurt right back, so Daryl figured that if he could keep it inside for the time being he could protect himself in some small way. He compromised instead with tracing the letters in light repetitions over her shoulder, mostly wishing she wouldn't notice but halfway hoping she would.


	8. Chapter 8

This one is mostly fluffy and emotional, but there is more smut yet to come I promise! Thanks for sticking with me, please let me know your thoughts on this chapter :)

* * *

The next few days were a complete whirlwind. Runs, pigs, hunting, and sorting out an influx of new arrivals meant that Daryl and Carol barely saw each other except for in passing or briefly at mealtimes for almost a week. Daryl had been stuck with the graveyard shift of watching the cells they were actually using as a jail, and he was often the last one to bed and the first one to rise. Carol was similarly occupied. The Council had voted her in charge of the children's activities, and with so many orphans filtering in with the various groups and keeping everyone simultaneously occupied and out of trouble, she hardly had time to think. The most interaction they'd been able to squeeze in had been in the form of Carol bringing him a plate of leftovers before getting called away to attend to something, or a quick stolen kiss in a hallway on their ways to separate emergencies.

Despite Daryl's increased workload, he still managed to sneak into Carol's cell almost every night usually long after she had fallen asleep. He would rouse her gently to make room for him, and although sometimes she would not even wake at all he would squeeze himself onto the small bed and pull her close. Those few moments of just holding her and listening to her soft, even breaths were the best parts of his day before his exhausted body quickly shut down right alongside her. He would leave in the morning to hunt before she had woken, leaving her with a soft forehead kiss as he resolved each day to come back to her in one piece. Carol usually at least half-woke when he climbed in or out of bed, but when she slept soundly through it all she was always comforted in the morning by his faint scent on the pillow letting her know he had still been there.

Finally, after a string of days that may as well have been forever, Daryl found himself with some downtime. The troublemakers were out of the jail cells and on probation, and Daryl was beyond relieved to not have to guard them at night anymore as that meant he and Carol could resume their evening reading if she also had some time to spare. He dusted off his hands and set off to the library, hoping to find her reading to or teaching the children, his chest light with happy anticipation.

The library was empty and silent, and Daryl frowned for a moment before remembering that Carol and Maggie were supposed to be teaching some newcomers how to scavenge for mushrooms and berries that afternoon. Daryl was disappointed, but decided to clean his weapons down in the kitchen while he waited for them to get back.

Daryl ended up nodding off as he sat on the counter by a sink, knife balanced precariously in his hand, but was awoken suddenly when the door slammed open. He lept off the counter and drew his knife up before he realized it was just Maggie who had burst through the door. She was soaking wet, and Daryl realized from the distant hum outside that it must have started raining again. His heart rate slowed and he lowered his weapon.

"Dammit, Maggie," he muttered, rubbing at his sleepy eyes. "Where's the rest of y'all?"

Maggie went white, and Daryl instantly bristled. Something was wrong.

"I… the new people came back with me, but I thought Carol… she's not here?" Maggie asked, worry overtaking her face.

"Whaddya mean?" he asked, a lump forming in his stomach.

Maggie swallowed hard and said, "Carol wandered off and when it started raining we had to head back... we figured she just made it back on her own, but…"

"Ya figured? _Ya figured?_ " Daryl said in a rising voice. "Ya didn't make sure? Ya didn't look for her? She could be hurt, or worse, and ya didn't think to look for her?"

Maggie looked just as scared as he was, and fired back with, "Carol can take care of herself better than anyone, and I had four terrified, drenched girls to get back safe -" but Daryl stormed out of the kitchen before she could finish, muttering about "fuckin' irresponsible" and "can't believe this shit". He took off for the gates, adrenaline and fear pumping through his veins in equal measure, hardly caring about the cold downpour saturating his clothes.

Three thoughts repeated over and over in his head as he made for the woods: it was getting dark, it was raining, and Carol was missing.

* * *

Carol's head felt like it was splitting in two. She was soaked to the bone, lying in a puddle of mud, and she gingerly brought her hand up to touch the back of her head. She had wandered away from the group and when the clouds rolled in and the sun disappeared she had lost all sense of direction entirely. She had wandered in the direction she thought the prison was in, but had slipped and fallen down an embankment and cracked her head on a log. Judging from the dim sunlight, she had been knocked out cold for a little while. Although she was dizzy she knew she had to make her way back to the prison if she wanted to avoid hypothermia, or - she winced as she brought her hand around from the back of her head - further blood loss. She steadied herself by leaning on trees as she walked, still feeling faint and disoriented. Panic began to set it as she realized she had no idea what direction she was going, or how far away she was. Her heart rate and breaths sped up and she willed herself to stay calm, though her shaky legs threatened to betray her. She was shivering violently, wondering how she was ever going to make it back. After a few frantic minutes she heard distant shouting even through the rain, and hoped that meant she was near the prison.

A walker appeared from behind a tree a dozen or so yards ahead of her, and she crouched in the brush. She wasn't sure she could fight it in her state, and hoped it would move on quickly. It was coming closer, and she managed to register through the downpour that it was walking oddly smoothly. And it was… yelling?

"Carol! Where the fuck are ya?"

Carol let out a strangled gasp of relief when the realized it was Daryl. She stood up, which caught his attention, and he cried her name as he ran to her and hugged her tight, before pulling back in horror when he noticed the blood all over the back of her neck and clothing.

"Jesus," he muttered, quickly checking her over. Carol was too stunned and relieved to speak, instead just letting him poke and prod her until he determined she was relatively alright.

"What happened?" he asked, winding his arm around her waist to help her walk.

"I - I don't know," she said weakly. "I wandered off, then I realized I was lost and it started raining, then I fell down that hill -" but Daryl cut her off with an incredulous,

"Ya _wandered off_?" he thundered. "Dammit Carol, ya know better than that! What if ya'd been badly hurt? What if I didn't find ya?"

Carol winced. She knew his anger came from fear and wasn't directed at her, but her old habits from Ed surfaced at his angry voice. Daryl stopped in his tracks and Carol could feel his shoulders slump.

"M'sorry," he mumbled. "I… fuck, I didn't mean -"

"No, Daryl, I know," she said, reaching for his hand on her wais and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I just… I got scared," he said in a voice so small it was almost drowned out by the sound of the rain.

"I know," she said again. "It's okay Daryl, really, I know you would never -"

Carol lost her footing in the mud and would have fallen face first into a patch of thorny bushes had it not been for his solid grip around her waist. She felt woozy and vaguely wondered how much blood she had lost. Daryl, noticing her pallor, quickly scooped her up into his arms. She shivered into him, grateful for his body heat against the freezing rain.

"We're not far," he said, jostling her to keep her alert.

Carol nodded, but her eyes began to droop. Her arms around his neck were too heavy to hold up so she let them fall, and white spots clouded her vision as the rest of the world started sounding like it was travelling further and further away. She barely registered Daryl shouting in her ear for her to stay with him as dizziness threatened to consume her. She was annoyed at his insistence that she stay awake; didn't he know how tired she was? How comfortable and warm she felt? How nothing in the world was more appealing than the prospect of sleeping?

Carol barely noticed when Daryl started a full out sprint towards the prison, and though his teeth chattered and the rain made it difficult to see, he didn't break stride. As much as Carol wanted to sleep, some faraway part of her implored her to listen to the voice that was begging her to stay awake and she begrudgingly did her best to cling to consciousness.

The last thing she registered was the absence of rain on her face and Daryl's distant pleas of "Help us! God, where's Hershel?" before the world faded away into blackness.

* * *

"Anything?" Daryl asked, out of breath and leaning on Carol's doorframe.

Sasha shook her head. Carol had been out cold for two days. Hershel had treated the wound on her head, and speculated that despite her substantial blood loss she should pull through. Everyone had rotated shifts sitting with her, and quietly accepted that Daryl would relieve them whenever he could.

"Her colour looks better," Sasha said, standing to let Daryl take her place on the chair. Daryl nodded but said nothing. She did look a little better, but the sight of her so weak and listless on the bed had put a lump in his throat that hadn't disappeared for two days.

"Hey," Sasha said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. "She's gonna be okay, alright? Hershel said she's through the worst of it. She's tougher than all of us combined."

Daryl nodded again and managed a slight smile. He appreciated that everyone seemed to understand the depth of his and Carol's relationship, but no one commented on it.

"You just yell if you need anything," Sasha said, and Daryl nodded as she ducked out.

He took hold of Carol's hand and rubbed it with his thumb. She twitched in reply, which was more response than he'd gotten before.

"Hey," he murmured, "If ya can hear me, I'm still here an' I'm really hopin' you're gonna wake up soon."

Carol didn't respond, and he leaned his head on the bed. He closed his eyes, exhausted from stress, and drifted into a state halfway between sleeping and waking.

"How long have I been asleep?"

Daryl's head flew up and he was met with Carol's blue eyes staring back at him. He made a little noise of surprise and relief, and stood up to kiss her forehead.

"Two days," he said, brushing a hand down the side of her head and neck. "Was fuckin' worried. How do ya feel?"

Although she was groggy and confused, Carol smiled back at him.

"Been worse," she said, squeezing his hand. "I'm starving."

When Hershel came to check on her, she managed to eat a little and he pronounced her almost fully recovered. Carol was eager to get out of bed, but Hershel refused.

"You better take it easy, at least for a day or two," he said.

Carol huffed and Daryl snorted. Hershel would have a hell of a time convincing her to slow down.

"But I think you could get up and walk around a little tonight," he conceded, and eyed Daryl as he said, "As long as someone's with you."

Daryl nodded, and Carol thanked Hershel before he left the two of them alone.

"Let's go then," she said abruptly, immediately trying to stand up.

Daryl rushed to steady her, muttering for her to be careful and not push it too much. She was a little wobbly when she got on her feet, but Daryl kept a firm enough grasp around her waist that she hardly wavered. Her warm body leaning into him made his chest swell with relief and pride; relief that she was alive and relatively unharmed, and pride at her unbelievable resilience. His jaw set at the thought of what could have happened had he not found her, and she felt him stiffen.

"You alright?" she asked as they slowly made their way down the cellblock hallway. Daryl smiled softly and grunted in the affirmative, incredulous that she should be concerned with him when she was the one who had been through a trauma. He tightened his grip around her waist and leaned in sideways to kiss her temple.

"'Course I am," he said. "You okay?"

"Gotta be," she said quietly, though not entirely convincingly.

Their little tradition warmed him from the inside out, but her increased weight leaning on him as well as her sudden paleness said otherwise.

"Alright, let's take a break," he said, guiding her over to the open doors of the empty cafeteria despite her protests. He let her down gently onto one of the chairs and sat beside her, keeping a hand on her back. Carol rested her head in her hands and looked sideways at Daryl.

"Quit looking at me like that," she mumbled, frustration lacing her words.

"Like what?" Daryl asked, perplexed.

"Like I'm gonna break or something," she said. "I'm not a damn piece of china."

Daryl's features hardened and he sat back in his chair but said nothing. His heart was sinking right down to his toes.

"I'm… I'm not your responsibility," she said shortly.

Daryl remained stoic and silent. This was his worst fear realized: after weeks of happiness and an even longer friendship with her, she was finally moving toward admitting that she didn't feel the same.

"I'm just tired of everyone treating my like I need to be handled with care," she rambled, apparently unable to stop herself once she got going. "Poor Carol, make sure someone watches her, make sure someone's with her, make sure she's okay, everyone feel sorry for her shitty past with her shitty husband and her dead daughter."

"Carol," Daryl growled as he clenched his fist on the table. "No one says that shit, Jesus. No one even thinks it."

Tears clouded Carol's eyes and her voice was thick when she said, "Then why does everyone - why do _you_ \- treat me like I'm some fragile little thing that needs to be protected? Like I can't -"

"Ya almost _died_ ," Daryl said louder than he had intended, standing up and pacing around the table. "You were halfway there when I found ya, Carol -"

"You didn't _need_ to find me," she shouted back, tears now falling freely and he struggled to hold back his own at the implication behind her words.

"Well what the fuck was I supposed to do?" he thundered back.

"You risked your own life trying to find me, Daryl, and for what? Why do you keep treating me like… like…" but she trailed off.

Daryl sighed and sat down on a chair opposite her. He lowered his voice as he said,

"Carol, listen t' me. Rick, Glenn, anyone else woulda done what I did. Anyone woulda looked for you too an' don't fuckin' tell me some shit about how ya don't deserve it or anythin' stupid like that. You're fuckin' important here an' no one feels more sorry for you than they do for anyone else, that shit's all in your head. Anyone woulda gone lookin' for you because… because they fuckin' love ya, Carol, they do. So quit feelin' sorry for yourself and just let us, alright?"

Daryl's chest heaved and he tried to catch his breath as the weight of his words hung suspended in the gap between them. Her tears had dried and she had apparently run out of steam. Rather than yell back, she locked eyes with him and asked in a shaky voice,

"Do you love me?"

Daryl broke her gaze and stared at his hands.

"'Course I do," he said gruffly.

He saw her shake her head out of the corner of his eye but he didn't look up.

"That's not what I meant… not like Rick and the others."

Daryl wallowed hard and leaned back in the chair but still avoided her eyes.

"Nah, I knew what you meant," he said quietly.

There. It was all out in the open. Nothing for him to hide anymore, and nothing left to lose that he hadn't already lost.

Carol's voice shook again when she said, "That… that's the problem. Everyone who loves me ends up hurting or dead or worse."

Daryl looked up at her. He knew what she was doing, it was the same thing he had tried to do after the bad run: she was trying to push him away to protect herself, and he found himself in what had been her position then.

"Everyone who loves anyone ends up hurtin' or dead," he said. "That's the fuckin' way it is now. But ya ain't gonna push me away life that."

Carol looked like she wanted to argue but instead she just put her head back in her hands and exhaled a tired sigh. Daryl returned to the seat beside her and gingerly put his hand on her back. When she leaned into him instead of flinching away, he drew her closer and rubbed the side of her arm.

"Listen" he murmured, "We ain't so good at this, but what if both o' us stop tryin' t' push the other one out? Okay?""

Carol leaned her head on his shoulder. She mumbled something, and although Daryl was sure he had heard her, he asked what she had said. Carol looked up at him and he rubbed at her tear tracks with his thumbs.

"I love you, too," she said quietly.

Daryl's heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest and he kissed her forehead lightly.

"I can't promise ya much," he said. "But I can promise ya that I ain't never gonna hurt ya, and I'm gonna keep lovin' ya for as long as I can stay alive."


	9. Chapter 9

Fair warning: lots of smuttiness and some light bondage ahead. Please let me know what you think!

* * *

The next day was Carl's birthday. At least, they were pretty sure it was. The group had been keeping track of the days since they left the farm, but no one was totally certain their estimation was correct. In any case, his birthday was still celebrated and in true apocalypse style: Carol made a cake from a stale boxed mix, Rick gave him his very own handgun, Michonne gave him a stack of comics she had been hiding away for weeks for the occasion, and the others gave him little trinkets or handmade gifts of their own. Carl's palpable happiness lifted everyone's spirits. Daryl had even offered to teach him how to shoot his crossbow, which Carl was over the moon excited for. Butterflies rose in Carol's chest when she overheard Daryl telling him how he would take him hunting once Carl got good enough. He was so sweet with Carl and she loved how he had been slowly breaking out of his rough outer shell to reveal the truly warm, caring person underneath more and more.

Tyreese and Daryl had set up a bonfire outside in the early evening. The days were getting shorter and the night air had a definite chill, but everyone stayed warm near the fire. They weren't concerned with the attention it could draw; they had thoroughly scouted the area, and the walkers almost seemed like a complete afterthought. Some of the other prison inhabitants had kindly offered to pull double duties with taking watch and tending to the walkers at the fence so the original group could have a night off and just relax for the first time in forever.

Beth had her guitar out and was singing, and although she kept side-eyeing Carol and Daryl no one else paid them much mind. Daryl, who was perpetually underdressed, had been shivering a little when Carol arrived with an armful of blankets which she passed out before sitting on the log next to him and draping one around both of them. He had instinctively put his arm around her waist and she leaned in like it was the most natural thing in the world. Both were grateful that everyone silently accepted them together without comment, and didn't realize that most thought it had been a long time coming anyway.

Everyone traded stories and laughter, and Tyreese had even surprised everyone with a case of beer he had secretly found while on a run. Carol didn't particularly like beer but she took one anyway, sipping on it just until it warmed her before giving the rest to Daryl. Rick even let Carl have his first beer, which he promptly spit out to everyone's amusement. The mood around the fire was light and happy, and although Sophia's absence was something Carol knew she would never stop being painfully aware of, she was still able to let herself just relax a little enjoy the happy evening. They sang happy birthday and Carl's face shone, and Carol felt truly hopeful and optimistic for the first time in as long as she could remember. She leaned into Daryl's shoulder and he squeezed her tight, absentmindedly playing with her jacket sleeve under the blanket.

When the fire had begun to die down and they had sung dozens of old songs, people began to slowly filter back to the prison until there were only a few left under the bright stars. Daryl was helping Tyreese polish off the last of the beer, and Carol could tell he was feeling pretty relaxed. Beth grumpily pushed past them to go to bed while Rick was showing Carl how to properly stoke a fire, and Carol yawned and stretched her back.

"I should turn in," she announced, standing up to gather the excess blankets. She wished Carl a happy birthday again and everyone said goodnight, though Daryl briefly touched her leg as she walked by him. He raised an eyebrow in a silent question, and she leaned down to quickly whisper in his ear,

"Wait for me in your cell."

Daryl's eyes widened until she could see the reflection of the moon in his eyes and he nodded. Carol flashed him a smile and made he way back to the prison, sashaying her hips a little extra as he stared at her the whole way back.

* * *

"Are you guys gonna go camping again or something?"

Daryl's head snapped around and he glared at Carl, who was giggling like a little shit. Rick chuckled too while he poked at the fire.

"Ain't none o' your business what I do," Daryl muttered, though he wasn't truly upset at the kid.

"I'm just saying," Carl said, holding up his hands in such a Glenn-ish way Daryl was sure Glenn must have put him up to it when he leaned down to whisper to Carl before he and Maggie turned in.

Daryl just snorted and stared into the fire, too preoccupied with Carol's instructions to be annoyed. _Wait for me in your cell…_ did she mean immediately, or should he wait outside for a while? What was he supposed to be waiting _for_ , exactly? She could just want to read to him like usual, but they never did that in his cell… in fact, they hadn't done much of anything in his cell lately. He had been spending so much time in hers he had thought more than once that he might as well just move his stuff there; was that what she wanted to talk about? Daryl shrugged to himself and chugged down the rest of his beer. It was his fourth, not including the third of a can Carol had made him finish for her, and his brain was too pleasantly fuzzy to properly think about it.

"I should go in," he announced. "Uh… pretty tired. Happy birthday, kid," he said as he ruffled Carl's hair and slung his crossbow onto his back.

"Daryl," Rick said just as Daryl turned to leave. Daryl turned back and Rick raised his eyebrow at him but smiled. "You should just know that… that if you're happy, we're happy for you."

Daryl stood motionless for a moment then stiffly nodded his thanks. As he walked back he couldn't stop a smile from creeping over his face. He and Carol hadn't talked about telling everyone else about them yet, and on a subconscious level it had been because he was afraid the others would be… angry? Disappointed? Not happy about it, at least, but the sincerity of Rick's tone warmed him from the inside out. These people really did care about him, and he was getting better at shutting out his invasive, negative thoughts.

He got to his room and flopped down onto his long neglected bed. He wasn't sure if he should change clothes or not, or if he should even take his boots off. More than anything he wanted to know what was up Carol's sleeve, and hoped she hadn't accidentally fallen asleep. He fiddled with the ends of his arrows, his fuzzy mind begging him to give in to sleep but some of his other body parts keeping him wide awake. Just as he was debating going to Carol's cell himself, a light tapping knock came at his door frame. There was only one person who knocked so softly, and his mouth went dry.

"Come in," he said.

Carol stepped around the corner and he softened. She was wearing her usual oversized jacket, and he noted right away that that seemed to be all she was wearing. Her slender legs peeked out from under the hem of the jacket that ended at the top of her thigh. _She could make a burlap sack look good,_ he thought.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she replied, stepping into his cell and stopping short. She quickly glanced back and forth down the hallway before unzipping her jacket and revealing what was underneath.

Daryl's throat went dry and he gulped like a goldfish as she tossed her jacket onto his bed.

Carol stood before him in nothing but the black satin nightgown he had unwittingly gifted her a few weeks earlier. The silky fabric clung perfectly to her hips and betrayed just a hint of cleavage like it had been tailored just for her, which took his breath away entirely. She gave him a little half grin and twirled around, her face shining.

"Never thanked you for bringing me this," she teased.

"Carol…" he breathed. She was, unquestionably, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. She smiled sheepishly at his hungry gaze, then he was on his feet and had closed the gap between them before he could think twice. He brought his hands up to grasp at the fabric on her hips and she moaned into his lips. He knew he probably tasted like beer but was thankfully otherwise fairly clean, and she, as usual, tasted like sweetness and morning sunlight. She wound her fingers in his hair and he ground his hips into hers to show her just how badly he wanted her.

"Hold on," she gasped when she finally came up for air.

"What?" he groaned as he moved his mouth to nip and kiss along her jawline and neck.

"I… I had an idea," she said, and her voice betrayed just a hint of trepidation.

Norman brought his head back to look at her, though he kept his hands firmly planted on her hips, rubbing his thumbs over the heavenly fabric.

"What kinda idea?" he asked. His vision was blurred at the edges though he couldn't tell if it was from the beer or from Carol's hardened little rosebud nipples just visible beneath the black silk.

Carol's face broke into a nervous smile and she giggled, looking down at the floor.

Daryl tilted her chin up and kissed her sweetly on the nose.

"What kinda idea?" he repeated in a husky voice.

Carol took a breath. "Well…" she began, "I know it's been a little while, and… and I've missed you, and… I thought… I could wear this and we… we could do whatever you want."

Daryl raised his eyebrows. There were _so many_ things he wanted to do to her he was having trouble narrowing it down.

" _Whatever_ you want," she repeated, taking one step forward until their breaths tangled together, so close she almost brushed his cheek with her eyelashes when she looked up into his eyes.

Daryl's mind was reeling from shock and arousal and a hundred different feelings at once. He resisted the overwhelming urge to throw her on the bed and ravish her right there, as his slight tipsiness emboldened him to consider something he had only fantasized about on a rare occasion. His mouth twitched at the corner and he nodded. Carol bit her lip and giggled when he tossed her jacket back at her.

"Put this back on," he said.

"That's the kind of outfit you're into?" she teased with devilish eyes. "Well, if I had known that -"

"Carol," he murmured, yanking the jacket up over her shoulders. "I need ya to put this on _right fuckin' now_."

Carol maintained a surprised expression but she finished covering up again, and she had no sooner zipped it then he scooped her up and carried her into the hallway. She giggled into his shoulder and strained up to press kisses to his collarbone.

"Where are we going?" she asked breathlessly.

Daryl didn't reply, he just swiftly took her up stairs and around corners of a deserted section of the prison until finally he burst through the doors of one of the abandoned offices. He set her down carefully then slammed the door shut and yanked the zipper down her jacket in one fluid motion. It fell into a heap on the floor and Carol yelped as he hoisted her up around him and walked her to the desk.

"Daryl, what -" she asked, and he suppressed a groan at the tone of her voice.

He loved how her voice changed when aroused, it got lower and breathier and more insistent and was so, so sweet. He wiped all the objects off the desk in one clear swoop, and laying her gently on her back he bent over her to kiss down the front of her nightgown, stopping to roll her hard little nipples under the fabric between his teeth as he pushed the hem up over her stomach. He groaned into her breast when he realized she wasn't wearing underwear as his fingertips brushed over her slick entrance. She wriggled to pull it over her head but he stopped her. He wanted her to leave it on, and laced their fingers together as he placed teasing kisses all over her lower stomach.

"You," he murmured between kisses and soft suction before he pulled back to rake his eyes over her exposed sex, "Are fuckin' beautiful, Carol."

Carol didn't even have the chance to form a response before Daryl descended to her cleft and began devouring her like she was the last meal he was ever going to have. In the secluded office away from the rest of the prison, Carol didn't have to hold back her moans and whimpers of pleasure as he quickly settled into the rhythm he knew she liked. He licked and sucked around her little nub, ever so slowly increasing the pressure and speed. She broke a hand away from his to alternate between pulling lightly at his hair and kneading her breasts.

"God, Daryl, holy shit," she grunted as he alternated fierce pressure with maddeningly light swirls.

Daryl's cock was aching almost painfully as it begged for release, but he forced himself to focus entirely on her pleasure. He managed to placate himself with thinking of what he had in mind for when she was finished. He hooked her legs tighter around his shoulders and licked and swirled and suckled firmly until her breath was coming in quick, shuddering whimpers.

"Fuck, Daryl!" she cried out louder than ever, gripping his hair with both her hands so firmly he saw stars as he carried her up and over the tipping point of a white hot orgasm. She writhed and whimpered beneath him as she came down and he crawled up onto the desk to kiss the hollow of her neck while she caught her breath. She had gone completely limp, barely able to return his kiss while her chest heaved. After a moment, she raised her hand to brush the hair from his forehead.

"How do you want me?" she breathed and met his eyes with a dark, intense gaze. Daryl was caught off guard at her quick turnaround but loved the way she looked at him with her heavy lidded eyes like he was the most appealing thing she had ever seen. He stood up and she scooted to the edge of the desk until her legs were wrapped loosely around his hips and he leaned down to kiss the top of her head, content to just hold her for a moment. She was still breathing heavily and her skin was slick with sweat as she held him tight.

"Carol, I… there _is_ somethin' I wanna do'," he said, swallowing hard.

Carol looked up at him with a coy smile and she ground her hips against his pelvis, causing him to suck in sharply through his teeth.

"Anything," she murmured, bringing her lips to the tight muscles of his stomach just below his ribcage as she stroked him lightly over the fabric of his pants.

"Carol, listen," he said seriously, tilting her chin up and desperately trying to ignore her hand motions. "I… it ain't somethin' that's gonna be gentle."

Carol's lips parted but she waited for him to continue.

"An' just like before, if you want me to stop or go slower or anythin' you just tell me and I will, alright? No questions asked… ya just need to tell me, cause hurtin' ya is the last thing I'd ever wanna do." His voice shook, but she just nodded.

"Daryl," she whispered, tilting her head up until he leaned over far enough for her to gently kiss him. "I trust you. And I… I love you."

Her words lit a fire within him. Daryl took in a ragged breath and returned her kiss, murmuring, "I love ya right back," into her soft, sweet lips that begged him for more.

* * *

Carol's mind was swimming as Daryl eased her off the desk. He had something in mind, and she was burning to find out what it was.

"Ain't gonna be gentle," he repeated in a low tone. "If ya wanna stop…"

Carol lifted her hand to cup his cheek and she bit her lip. Whatever he was thinking, she wanted it. She wanted it all. She leaned up to brush her lips over his and then bit down lightly, pulling back only to whisper in a desperate, pleading voice,

"Daryl, I… I don't _want_ you to be gentle."

Daryl trembled, but he met her eyes and nodded. He leaned down as if to kiss her, but then suddenly grasped her hips and spun her around. Carol yelped a little in surprise, which quickly turned into a moan as he assaulted her shoulders and back with urgent, needy love bites. His fingers found the hem of her nightgown and he ran his hands up her body, pulling it along with him but he stopped short when she lifted her arms to help him take it off.

"No…" he whispered into the back of her neck which sent a shiver of excitement to pool in her lower stomach.

Instead of sliding the nightgown up and over her arms, he pulled the front of it over her head. Carol realized what he was doing with a sharp gasp, and lowered her arms while he wound and twisted the material until her wrists were firmly bound behind her. Heat and wetness flooded to her core and she let out a whimpering moan when he briefly drew her back into him to whisper,

"This okay?"

Carol nodded fervently, unable to speak between panting breaths. Immobility wasn't something she had imagined herself being into, nor her complete helplessness before him, but she realized she trusted him so deeply that she wasn't scared at all. On the contrary, it awoke a deep, needy ache within her and she wiggled her hips in a desperate attempt to get him to continue.

Daryl didn't need much convincing, and his breaths were just as ragged as hers as he quickly stripped off his pants while maintaining a firm hold on her wrists. His iron hard cock bounced on her bare cheek when it sprung free, and she automatically leaned forward and whimpered impatiently. Daryl shifted her until she was bent over the desk flat on her stomach with her feet still on the floor, her ass positioned at just the right angle for him to rub the head of his cock up and down her slit.

"You good?" he asked one final time.

Carol couldn't focus on anything but how badly she needed him.

"Yes, please, yes," she whimpered, straining back against him.

Daryl took a deep breath and plunged into her in one swift stroke that caused her to cry out. He pulled back and thrust again, and goosebumps exploded all over her exposed skin.

" _Fuck_ , fuck, yes, yes, yes," she moaned in time with his quick thrusts. He held her bound wrists for leverage with one hand and her hip with the other, bucking into her with such intensity that her eyes drifted closed and there was nothing in her world except for the unbelievable sensation he was causing her.

Daryl panted loudly with each thrust and she loved how he was completely letting himself go. Over and over again he slammed into her, occasionally adjusting his grip to move to her ass or to rake his nails down her back. Each snap of his hips sent a shiver through her, and when he held her wrists she strained her fingers to grip his. Carol was barely aware of the string of expletives coming out of her mouth, too amazed that she had never been fucked so good in her life to care.

Whenever Daryl slowed his pace to catch his breath she made up for it by pushing her hips back into him in a desperate plea for more. She had lost all sense of time entirely, aware only of the mind numbing sensation of him stretching her walls to their limit; and after what could have been minutes or hours he yanked her up off the desk by her bound wrists until her back was flush against his torso. She whimpered at his change of pace; with the new angle he slowed down as his cock pushed upwards even deeper than before.

"Ya like that?" he growled into her ear as he brought up a hand to brace firmly against the base of her neck.

Carol's knees weakened and she nodded furiously, frustrated yet unbelievably aroused that he wasn't allowing her to turn her head and kiss him.

"Ya walk around… all sweet… and innocent," he grunted between deep strokes, "if anyone knew… that ya like… this… kinda thing…"

Carol bit her lip and giggled, then a low groan escaped her when he tightened his grip on her neck.

"Don't stop," she panted as Daryl pulled her hips harder against him. "Don't _ever_ stop, please, please..."

Daryl pushed her back down onto the desk and tightened the fabric around her wrists. He steadied himself and began to thrust back into her so hard and so fast Carol saw stars, crying out his name over and over. Her whole body began to tremble and her knees felt like they were turning to jelly, and he gripped her hands so hard she was sure he was leaving marks but she couldn't find it within her to care. Instead, she just pleaded with him to go harder and faster until her words merged together into one strangled cry as he pushed her right over the edge. Waves of pleasure crashed over her like a hurricane and Daryl held her up by her hips as her legs gave out completely and her cries subsided into shuddering little whimpers.

As soon as she regained her footing Daryl followed her with spastic jerks and heavy breaths as he finally let himself go. Daryl vice gripped her wrists and spilled into her with her name on his lips, a sound Carol knew she would never get tired of. They were both still for a moment, catching their breaths and trembling until Daryl gently undid the knot around her wrists and pulled out of her with a low grunt. He guided her upwards and lazily kissed the back of her neck while she hummed with contentment. Bringing them around to the desk chair, Daryl collapsed into it in an exhausted heap and she curled up into his lap, her eyes fluttering closed as she rested her head on his shoulder and felt his heartbeat thud against her skin.

Carol brushed his damp hair back from his forehead and smiled up at him with shining, happy eyes. She had loved every bit of what he had just done, and hoped to convey just how satisfied and content she was without having to say it aloud. Daryl guided her hands down to his mouth so he could gently rub and kiss her wrists where her nightgown had left marks, clearly worried he might have been too rough despite her obvious enthusiasm.

Carol reassured him with, "That was incredible, Daryl. So good.

"It wasn't… I didn't…? He stammered, wrapping his arms tighter around her and resting his chin on the top of her head. She fit perfectly in his lap, her curled naked body a warm, comforting weight on him.

"No," she breathed, tracing lazily over his collarbone. "You were amazing. I never knew that it… that it could be _that_ good."

Daryl softened and pressed his lips lightly to her forehead. They sat in contented, comfortable silence until Carol began to shiver. Her trembling roused Daryl, whose eyes had begun to droop, and he eased her off of him so he could retrieve her forgotten jacket from the floor. She pulled her nightgown back on and he found his pants while she zipped her jacket back up. Once clothed, he felt like an awkward teenager who had just been caught doing something dirty. Carol noticed the sheepish look on his face and she started to giggle. He chuckled along with her and soon they were full out laughing. Carol stepped closer to wrap her arms around his waist and rested her head in the hollow of his neck. As they slowly quieted down Daryl ran his fingertips lightly through her hair and down her neck.

"Bed?" he murmured into her hair.

She nodded in response and they quietly walked hand in hand back to the cell block, pausing to look around corners before rounding them. As they arrived at her cell Daryl leaned in to whisper,

"Ya better keep that nightgown around."

Carol snorted and smacked his shoulder, and they finally collapsed happy, satisfied, and exhausted onto the bed. Daryl snaked a hand under her head like a pillow, and pulled her into him.

"Goodnight, love," Carol murmured as she pulled the blankets up over them, but Daryl was already fast asleep and lightly snoring. Even in his sleep he maintained a firm hold around her waist and she kissed him on the cheek before snuggling in and drifting off right along with him.


End file.
